


The Piano Boy

by VioletIsabelleLovett



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 1950s, AU, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - Human, Drug Abuse, Falling In Love, Familial Abuse, Friendship, Growing Up Together, Inspired by Fanfiction, Inspired by Music, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Samifer - Freeform, Some Destiel, mentions of sexual abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-12-05
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletIsabelleLovett/pseuds/VioletIsabelleLovett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A boy on the path of darkness finds the only light he can manage to grasp at, when a new family of three moves in next door. With Samuel Winchester and music as his only guides, a young boy will fight to keep his humanity in a world determined to break him. Their struggles become one during the height of the Cold War, and the ever-changing mid-20th century.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This work, while not containing anything explicit, will contain depictions of drug abuse, sexual abuse, child abuse, and traumatic experiences. 
> 
> If this work makes at least one person cry, I'll consider it an accomplishment on my part.
> 
> While this is a work of fanfiction, I have serious plans on turning this into my own, original novel in the future. I really hope you enjoy!

 

 

 

 

 

>                                                                          " _He took a step, but then felt tired_
> 
> _He said 'I'll rest a little while'  
> _
> 
> _But when he tried to walk again_
> 
> _He wasn't a child"_
> 
> **\- Blue Lips, Regina Spektor**
> 
>                                                                                        Chapter one

**June, 1955**

It was the summer of 1955 that the Winchesters moved in next-door to the Novaks, a family of five at the end of the street. It was raining that day, but that didn't stop the youngest of the Novak brothers from hiding behind the large oak tree to spy on the new family as they loaded their things off the moving truck, the wide yards creating just enough distance so that he would not be spotted from up above. With eyes wide open, the suspicious boy peered at the small family, made up of two young boys, and a father. The rain made the air humid and muggy, but neither of the boys seemed to mind.

The younger of the two brothers was about his age, roughly eight or nine years old. As the rain poured down, soaking everyone’s clothes, Lucifer watched the older of the two help his father with several heavier boxes. The younger was lifting a large chair above his head, struggling with the weight as he hauled it into the house. Lucifer stayed hidden behind the large oak, making sure to keep out of sight as he watched them. The rain made his clothes cling to his skin, making him cold and shivery. Only his brother Michael was at home- his father was out, somewhere, along with the rest of his brothers, and Lucifer didn’t have to worry about getting yelled at for being outside in the rain.

He didn’t make a move to introduce himself, or to even say hello to the family. After a little while, Lucifer climbed to the top of the tree to ensure he wouldn’t be seen, peering down at them between the leaves. The rain made the tree-bark wet and slippery, and already Lucifer had to catch himself to make sure he didn’t go toppling out of the branch he perched himself on. While not very high off the ground, Lucifer really had no intention of making a fool of himself.

“Dean, help your brother with the chairs,” their father said, having to shout to be heard over the rain. The older boy quickly ran inside the moving truck, helping his little brother carry out several of the chairs into the house. Roughly about four or five years older than his brother, Dean was quick to help him with the heavier boxes, as their father helped the movers bring in the couch. Twice, Dean caught his little brother when he tripped over a crack in the patio, which brought a laugh out of both of them.

Lucifer watched the younger brother with envy.

He leaned forward from his place above the ground, craning his neck to get a better look, when he realized too late that he leaned too far. That’s when his foot slipped. With a startled gasp, his feet flew out from under him, sending him thudding to the ground and into the wet grass, just next to the Winchester’s gravel driveway. He laid there, uttering a groan of pain. Nothing was broken, although it felt like every bone in his body had cracked wide open. It just hurt. He had landed on his side, his face buried in the wet grass.

Before he could scramble to his feet, he heard footsteps rushing over to him, before a figure knelt down beside him. When Lucifer looked up, he was looking directly into a pair of bright green eyes, wide with surprise and concern. He had light, short brown hair that stuck to the sides of his face in the rain. With a tanned, lightly freckled face, Lucifer realized with dismay that he was looking directly into the face of the younger Winchester.

“You okay?” he asked. Lucifer winced, his instincts immediately telling him to draw away from the boy as he struggled to his feet.

“Here, I can-” the boy began, offering a hand to help. Lucifer shook his head, groaning again as he stood. No, nothing was broken. Even if something had been, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to face the humiliation of having to be helped by a stranger. His face flushed with embarrassment. Not only had he fallen out of a tree, they had probably been figuring out that he had been spying on them for the past twenty minutes. Lucifer didn’t accept the hand.

“Uh...I’m Sam, by the way,” the younger boy said nervously, still concerned that the boy in front of him may have broken something when he fell. Lucifer only looked at him, staying silent.

“Sam!” Dean yelled over the rain, that was only pouring down harder. He didn’t notice that Sam was crouched over the strange boy, dressed in a olive-green t-shirt and jeans that were too big, now soaked and muddy from being outside.

“What are you doing over there?” he yelled. Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean about Lucifer, but the boy had already taken off, running at full speed across the wide yard to his house before Sam could reply.

Sam frowned, rejoining his brother in unloading the rest of the van without another word.

“Nothing,” he said. “That kid was...I don’t know.” Dean snickered, watching the kid run inside with amusement. 

“He seems real friendly,” he said sarcastically. “Come on. Dad needs help with the last couple of boxes.”

Sam nodded, sparing the house one, last glance, before following his older brother back inside the van.  
It was 5:00 pm.

* * *

 

The rain had, finally, let up by the next day, allowing Sam Winchester to explore his new neighborhood after helping his brother and father unpack the few boxes that they had. Dean was happiest about the size of the yard they had, figuring he and his dad would finally have a place to play football when his dad had a day off. They had eaten dinner together as a family the night they moved on, a rare occurrence that they immensely appreciated, even if their father was grim and mostly silent as usual.

Promising not to go too far, Sam left his house in a hurry after helping unpack, standing outside on the sidewalk, still wet from the night before. A few people were outside- a woman with her dog, and several older boys on skateboards. Faintly, from somebody’s open window, he heard the sound of a record player, some lively Elvis tune, drifting from the windows. It was quiet, he realized. Not that his old house in Lawrence, Kansas was much busier.

Sam didn’t mind the silence. He had grown up in a quiet house, despite all the moving that they did over the years. When Dean wasn’t watching cartoons or listening to his record player that used to belong to their mother, it was relatively peaceful in the Winchester home.

He walked around to the back of his house, spotting the old oak tree where the strange boy had fallen from the evening before. Sam’s house and the boy’s were the only two houses in the cul-de-sac at the very end of a long street, separated by a large, spacious yard with the single oak tree that served as the divider of the two properties. He would have to climb it himself one of these days, he thought to himself.

If they didn’t move again before he got the chance to

As he walked closer to the tree, he noticed something laying at the base of the trunk, almost hidden by the fallen leaves and branches. Jogging over to take a closer look, he saw that it was a necklace, a simple, thin leather strip with a black music-note pendant hanging off the end, still slick from the rain from the night before. Sam picked it up, studying it closely. It felt like it was made out of marble or some sort of stone. It was very simple-looking, and the pendant was relatively big. He realized it may have belonged to the kid that fell out of the tree the night before.

_It probably flew off when he fell out of the tree,_ he thought. _I should give it back..._

Truthfully, Sam was a bit intimidated by the boy, even if he couldn't place his finger on why. Still, he wanted to find out more about him. Or at least get a chance to see what he was like. Even if he was a bit weird, Sam was still relieved to find that there was at least one boy his age in the neighborhood. If they supposedly were finally settling down in this house for good, Sam wanted to have at least one friend before school started in the fall.

The boy’s house wasn’t much unlike Sam’s. He hesitantly walked up to their door, giving the doorbell one ring. After a moment or so, a much older boy answered the door, definitely not the one that Sam had seen yesterday. This boy looked like he was in high school, with wavy brown hair and dark brown eyes, as opposed to the other, smalling blonde kid from last night.

“Hey you’re one of the Winchester kids!” he exclaimed, a smile spreading across his face.

“Hi,” Sam said shyly, holding out the necklace in his hand. “I have… this… I think it’s your brother’s or something…I found it outside.”

“Ah, that’s Lucifer’s alright…” He took the necklace, examining it with a frown. “He was tearing the whole house apart looking for this old thing, but for whatever reason never bothered to check outside. Literally, the kid is utterly possessive of this necklace. Used to belong to our mom. Come on in, I’ll tell him you’re here.”

“Thanks. He’ll be glad to have it back...damn kid never goes anywhere without this thing. I’m Michael, by the way. Lucifer is my brother. Have you guys met already?”

Sam winced. “Um...sort of,” he said slowly. “It was raining. He fell out of the tree outside..and sort of ran back here. I never got a chance to say hi to him.”

“Ha. Can’t say I’m surprised. If he’s not holed up away in his room, he’s usually up there watching everyone walk around like a creep.”

Michael held the door open for Sam to come in. Nervously, Sam walked through the doorway into their kitchen, small and finished with blue tile just as his was. The dark red curtains hung from the windowsill, the ceiling fan equipped with several lights that gave off a soft light. Michael walked into the adjoining room, a small living room with two couches and a small, black-and-white TV set. The antennas looked bent, as if someone had been tampering with them. Sam followed Michael into the living room hesitantly.

Faintly, Sam heard music coming from the upstairs room, like someone was playing on a piano. The notes were set in a slightly off-tune pattern, as if there was somebody trying to learn a song by ear. But the melody was undoubtedly original, a faint, haunting tune that caught Sam's attention almost immediately. Sam turned his head, curious. Michael just seemed irritated.

“Banging on that thing again…” he grumbled. “Luce!” he yelled up the stairs. “The kid next door found your necklace…”

The piano music came to an abrupt stop, the sound of hurried footsteps coming from upstairs. Almost at once, the boy Sam noticed from the night before came hurrying down the staircase. When he saw Sam, he froze, a panicked expression on his face. Michael tossed him his necklace.

“Here. Now you can stop freaking out about it so much.”

Lucifer looked between his brother and Sam when he caught it. Sam raised a hand in hello, giving him a small, uneasy smile.

_What is with this guy?_ Sam thought to himself. _Why does he look like he’s so freaked out over everything?_

Compared to his brother, Lucifer was very short, almost shorter than Sam even though they looked like they were about the same age. His dark-blonde hair was very messy, sticking out in every direction as if he had just rolled out of bed. His eyes darted frantically between Sam and Michael, anxiety clear in his expression. Sam didn't notice the large bruise across his left cheek from the night before. It wasn't very dark, but it was still highly noticeable, and looked sore. Sam figured it was probably from where he fell- he did take a hard fall when he fell out of the tree. He was still wearing the same outfit he had worn last night- the olive-green t-shirt, and the ripped up jeans.

“Where did you find it?” Lucifer asked, looking up at him as he quickly slipped the necklace around his neck.

“Under the tree. Where you, uh, fell.”

“You always fall out of that thing. Dad told you not to climb it anymore if you’re gonna crack your skull open every time you go outside,” Michael snickered as he walked into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of coke from the fridge.

“Shut up,” Lucifer grumbled, giving his brother a dirty look. Sam laughed again, but Lucifer just looked annoyed and embarrassed.

“Go outside. You know dad won’t be happy if he knew you shut yourself away up there all day again. Go show the new guy around the neighborhood for a little,” Michael said from the kitchen. Lucifer shook his head.

“Michael-” Lucifer began to protest, but his brother wouldn't hear of it.

Michael came back into the living room, lighting a cigarette in his free hand. "I said go outside. I don't need the old man getting all pissed off at us again for staying in the house all day."

Before Lucifer could utter another word, Michael went upstairs, leaving the two boys alone in the living room. 

Sam grimaced, suddenly feeling awkward.

"Brothers, huh?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head. Lucifer shook his head.

"I have four of them," he grumbled. "I guess I could show you where the school is. It's right down the street...here, just follow me."

Sam followed him out of the house. He noticed that Lucifer was very quiet. Even when frustrated with his brother, he had a softness to his voice that was rare for his age.

"Four brothers?" Sam asked. Lucifer nodded as they walked across the grass and onto the sidewalk. He was trying his best to make conversation, seeing as they didn't exactly seem to meet on purpose. Lucifer was clearly unhappy about being around Sam. Probably still embarrassed about last night, he figured.

"Yep," he said, hopping off the sidewalk and into the street. "Gabriel is my younger brother. He’s four. He was asleep upstairs when you came in. Raphael is away at college, Castiel is out with a friend, ...and you met Michael." Lucifer shrugged, still not looking at Sam as they began walking down the sidewalk.

"My dad's at work. He usually isn't home much."

Sam nodded. "My dad works a lot too. I don't see him a whole lot either...Dean usually helps me make dinner and stuff. But I can't imagine having more than one brother. I'd probably go crazy!"

Lucifer laughed a little, finally lifting his head to look at the other boy. He kept his distance, as if Sam were a wounded animal about to bite him. As they walked down the street, Sam once again heard the familiar sound of Elvis drifting through an open window.

"The town's pretty quiet," Lucifer said as they walked down the road. “The music is coming from Pamela's house. She likes Elvis. It's pretty much all she ever plays. Michael thinks she’s crazy, but I think she’s really nice.” He seemed more like he was talking to himself than to Sam.

"Was that you playing the piano inside?" Sam asked suddenly. Lucifer shrugged.

"Yeah I guess," he said, walking a little ahead of Sam. He remained quiet. The two of them walked down the street, turning a corner that lead to the main street. Several tiny shops lined the road, a diner sitting on the corner. This part of town was busier, Sam realized, but it was still so quiet compared to Lawrence, Kansas.

"So...you play piano?" Sam asked, trying to get to know this boy at least a little bit better. Lucifer only shrugged again, seemingly avoiding the question.

"I've never had lessons," he said after a little while. They passed a bakery as several cars zipped down the street. Sam wondered when they'd reach the school. It didn't start until early September, but he'd like to at least know what it looked like before it started. Several older boys stood by the curb, smoking cigarettes and talking loudly as several cars rolled down the street.

"But I still like to play." He curled his hand around the music note pendant hanging around his chest absently. Sam grimaced. Lucifer suddenly looked really uncomfortable, as if something were troubling him. He decided to drop the subject of music all together.

"The school is up here," he said quickly. "If you take a right and follow the street all the way down, the school is on the left. I have to go, okay? Nice talking to you.”

He said this all very fast. Before Sam could utter another word, Lucifer took off in the opposite direction, running as fast as he could back towards his house before Sam could say anything else. Sam watched him go, wondering what he had said wrong to cause him to act so strangely.

Lucifer, Sam decided, was the weirdest kid he had ever met.

It took him almost an hour to find his house again, even though Lucifer and Sam hadn’t walked all that far. He never did bother to find the school- he’d see it later. It was getting late, and he wanted to be home before Dean started freaking out. He swore as he past Lucifer’s house that someone was watching him from the window, but when he looked around to see if anyone was there, the curtains were closed.

 

* * *

 

“Where were you all day?” Dean asked through a mouthful of green beans at dinner that night. Sam shrugged, looking down at his food. Their dad wasn’t at dinner that night, which wasn’t all that unusual for the two brothers. Their father typically left them things to cook on the stove, before heading off to work that night.

“That kid that lives next door showed me around. Lucifer. But he’s really weird...I don’t think he likes me very much.”

Dean laughed. “He’s probably afraid of you or something. I dunno.”

“He has like, four brothers or something. I tried to get to know him better, but he barely talks at all.”

“He’s probably some creeper psycho anyway,” Dean said, swallowing his entire bowl of mashed potatoes in two bites. “All the quiet ones are, you know.”

“I guess that’s why you never shut up?”

Dean threw the remainder of his green beans in Sam’s hair.

* * *

 

That night, Sam slept with his window open, the breeze cooling off his muggy room. It was the first time in nine years that he had a room to himself, one that he didn’t have to share with his older brother. While the room felt empty without another ebd beside his, Sam loved having the freedom. Nearly asleep, he was about to drift off when he heard a strange, melodic tune coming from somewhere outside.

Blinking in surprise, Sam hurried to his window, peering out into the night to find the source of the sound. It was clear that somebody was playing the piano, but it was unlike anything Sam had ever heard. It took him almost two minutes to realize the music was coming from Lucifer’s house. Only one window of his house was open, one that was almost directly across from Sam’s on the second floor.

There was no mistaking it- somebody was playing the piano. The melody was soft and quiet, but still sounded dark and threatening, as if something insidious were drawing nearer to the house in the dead of night. Sam listened, amazed. It was beautiful, like something from another world. He had heard plenty of people play piano before, on the radio mostly. But never like this.

As he watched, he saw the light click on in the room and all at once, angry voices sounded from the house. Sam couldn’t make out any words, although it was clear that somebody was shouting. The music stopped abruptly, right in the middle of a chord. Briefly, he heard a loud thump, as if something heavy had fallen, before silence descended over the neighborhood. Amazed, Sam left his window open in case he would hear it again, but no sound came from the house for the rest of the night. When he awoke the next morning, Dean said he hadn’t heard anything, even though his window had been open as well.

Sam figured it must have been a dream.


	2. Chapter 2

**July, 1955**

It had been several weeks since Sam had seen any sign of Lucifer since the awkward day that they had walked around town. Since then, the Winchesters had settled into their new home, and life went on as usual for the tiny family. Dean was out almost constantly, especially when their father wasn’t home. Sam had no idea where he went, although he figured Dean probably made at least a billion friends by now. The older Winchester was always better at meeting people than Sam- Sam never really understood it. At thirteen years old, Dean was like some sort of movie star wherever he went, and even kissed his first girl when he was only eleven. Dean had told his brother it was like kissing a really wet wall.

Dean was the kind of guy who kissed girls a lot. But whenever Sam asked him about what kissing girls was like, Dean always made a face and shook his head.

“You kiss girls to be able to say that you kiss girls,” he told his little brother. “Not because it’s fun. Everyone expects you to have kissed girls by the time you’re my age, so you do it. But I’m telling you: it’s super nasty.”

Sam didn’t ask again.

Since there were no girls to kiss in his spare time, Sam was really bored. He often took walks by himself around town, hoping to catch sight of Lucifer at all and try to become friends again. Considering they were neighbors, Lucifer did a pretty good job at avoiding Sam wherever he went. He frequently saw Lucifer’s other brothers that he had mentioned before. Once, Sam had even seen the youngest of the five, Gabriel, running around the yard with who Sam assumed was Castiel. Sam had waved hello once or twice, but neither brother seemed to notice them. Gabriel, who had light brown hair, was running around from Castiel who would occasionally laugh and try to throw handfuls of leaves at him. Sometimes Michael would come outside and work on the car, an old blue jalopy that looked like it had been built in the ‘30’s. But Sam never once saw any sign of their father, or any sign of Lucifer in the next couple of weeks that followed.

Dean made him run to the grocery store with the money their father had left them, saying he was busy that day. When Sam asked him what he was doing, Dean thumped him on the forehead, saying it was none of his business. He had made friends already, Sam knew that much, but was still irritated that Dean was making him do all the shopping. The list was milk, bread, and more spaghetti. Their father was supposed to be home by tonight, Sam realized. The thought made him smile.

The small grocery store wasn’t too far away from their house. Sam had remembered passing it during his time with Lucifer, next to the diner that stood on the corner. As he walked down the sidewalk, the familiar Elvis music drifted through Pamela’s open window, several houses down the street from the Novaks and the Winchesters. Elvis, who was insanely popular nowadays, was practically all Sam ever heard. Dean hated the guy. If you didn’t hear Elvis playing on the radio, it was “Rock Around the Clock”, which somehow managed to play on every other radio station.

“Hello!” a woman’s voice called out from the doorway, just as Sam was about to pass the house entirely. He turned, watching as a black-haired woman came walking out of the doorway with a bright smile on her face. She was wearing a silky black dress, which almost looked too formal to be wearing around the house. Her hair was loosely pinned up into a bun, locks of hair spilling out and around her face. She gave Sam a bright smile, waving enthusiastically to him as if she had known him for quite some time. He record player continued to drift through the open window, “You’re a Heartbreaker” sounding in the quiet of the street. Giving her a shy smile, Sam waved in return, tucking the grocery list into his pocket.

“You must be new here!” she said brightly, walking out bare-footed onto the sidewalk. She offered her hand to shake, which Sam accepted. Her house was small, a white-picket fence bordering her property with grass that looked kept and well-mowed.

“You’re that little family of three, right?”

Sam nodded, shrugging a little. “Yeah. I’m Sam.”

“Pamela. Nice to meet you sweetheart. Goodness, it’s about time that Lucifer boy had a playmate other than those rowdy brothers of his...I feel sorry for the poor boy sometimes,” she said with a sigh, chuckling a little.

“I met him already...he, um, well he’s a little…”

Pamela’s expression softened, a small, sad smile spreading across her face in understanding.

“A little odd?”

Sam winced, nodding quickly in agreement. He didn’t really know what to say. He felt out of place criticizing him when he barely knew anything about him, but he was definitely stranger than most. It was intriguing, in a way, and made Sam want to learn more about him...even if Lucifer wasn’t too keen on learning anything more about Sam.

“Hey now. You look like you must be getting hot. Why don’t you come inside and I’ll fix you a little something to drink?”

It was really hot outside. In the mid-day of July, Sam felt like he was already drowning in his own sweat. He followed her inside, wondering how she knew Lucifer so well. He vaguely remembered that Lucifer knew her- and that his brother thought she was strange.

Her house was like entering some kind of fortune teller’s tent at a carnival. Everything was draped in oddly colored curtains and sequence, with strange statues and figures decorating the coffee table and kitchenware cabinets. Surprised, Sam looked around in wonder. Her kitchen was almost exactly the same, except the color scheme was mostly yellow and orange, with statues settled on the windowsills and on top of the cabinets. Pamela laughed a little at Sam’s reaction.

“All of this garb belonged to my Papa. He gave it to me and my husband before he died, so I just kept this swell little house to myself.” She brought the pitcher of lemonade out, pouring Sam a glass with ice. He accepted it gratefully.

“Aw shucks,” he said, smiling shyly at her. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, darling. You know...I’m glad you met that Lucifer boy. I really am. I feel like you two would be good pals.”

Sam frowned and shook his head, downing his glass in two gulps.

“He doesn’t want to be my friend,” he said. “I tried talking to him, but he didn’t want to have anything to do with me!”

Pamela sighed, putting the pitcher back into the fridge. “I know,” she said quietly. “I just feel so sorry for the poor boy. You know his father is never home. I don’t know where he goes off to, or what he’s doing, but he leaves all of those boys alone in the house. The oldest one is away at college, but they have a four year old boy to look after! Gorgeous little child, always with so much energy...but they gotta look after each other all on their own. And Lucifer? Well, he withdraws in on himself. Stays on his piano all day and all night. I’ve only ever heard him play once…” She trailed off, shaking her head a little.

“Nothing wrong with a quiet kid. But he’s almost too quiet, if you know what I mean.”

“I tried to ask him about playing the piano. His brother Michael let me inside and I heard him playing...and a few weeks ago I thought I heard something at night, but I wasn’t sure. It was really good though.”

Pamela just shook her head again. “The boy is a rightful genius. He’s gonna be fantastic one day. But he’s a dark boy, you know? Doesn’t like other kids. I’m the only one he ever talks to, and that’s when I’m lucky.”

Sam nodded, his brow furrowing. “Why is he like that?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. He just doesn’t get along well with others. Hides away most of the day...the only time I ever see him outside is with his little brother, Gabriel. His little brother is the only one I ever see him smile with…” She smiled a little herself at the thought. “He loves him more than anything. That, he told me himself. Nothing can separate Lucifer from his little brother Gabriel, I’ll tell you that right now!” She laughed wholeheartedly, but it sounded more like a cackle to Sam. He was beginning to realize why Lucifer got along with her so well- they were both a little odd.

“But anyway, how are you and your family settling in, honey?”

Sam told her about his first night moving in, and how he had met Lucifer when he tumbled out of the tree, which brought another laugh out of Pamela as she turned off her record player to switch on the radio. Overall things had been well. The town was quiet and there wasn’t much to do, but Sam didn’t mind too much.

“I think I saw your brother with Castiel- he’s about thirteen or fourteen, isn’t he? They seem to get along real good.”

Sam told her he had barely seen his brother for the week that he had moved in.

“Well, you know how teenage boys are!” she laughed. “Don’t you ever become one, Sammy. You’re too sweet.”

Sam smiled. “Thank you. I think I gotta go though. Dean sent me to the grocery store to pick up some stuff.”

“Alright. Thank you for stoppin’ in dear. It gets rather lonely when I’m here all by myself.”

“Thank you for the lemonade,” he said, trying to remember to be polite. Pamela nodded and showed him out the door.

“Don’t mention it, honey. Just...be nice to that boy for me, okay? The world ain’t too kind to fellas like him.”

Sam frowned. But before he could ask what she meant by that, she was waving him goodbye, hurrying back inside to answer her ringing telephone. Left with that thought, Sam continued down the sidewalk and towards the grocery store on the corner. What had she meant by that? Sam found himself thinking about it the entire way to the market, as well as the entire way home.

So lost in his own thoughts, Sam found himself smacking right into somebody coming from the opposite direction, who apparently had not been paying attention either. Dropping the groceries in his hand, Sam stumbled back, realizing he had crashed right into the very boy he had just been thinking about. Lucifer looked at Sam with panicked eyes, nearly falling over himself. It took Sam a minute to realize that Lucifer was holding the hand of his younger brother, Gabriel.

“S-sorry!” Sam sputtered, trying to gather himself as quickly as he could. Lucifer’s face lit up in a blush as Gabriel shrieked with laughter, the tattered hat on his head nearly tumbling right off.

“Luci you almost fell down!” the little boy laughed. Lucifer groaned quietly, awkwardly half-bending over to help Sam gather up his spilled grocery bags.

“Luci, you almost fell-!”

“Gabriel,” he snapped. The boy quieted himself.

“I’m sorry,” Sam mumbled when he had finally gathered up the rest of his things. Embarrassed, he grimaced, unable to meet the boy’s eyes.

“It’s fine,” he said, laughing a little. Sam looked up, almost surprised to hear him laugh. It was quiet, as his voice always was whenever he spoke, but Sam didn’t even think a boy like Lucifer was even capable of laughing.

“I wasn’t really watching where I was going. Gabe and I were talking about music.”

“You play good music,” Gabriel insisted. Lucifer hushed him gently, his cheeks turning red.

‘Haha. That’s okay. I wasn’t really looking where I was going either…”

For a moment, an awkward silence descended over the two of them.

“Are you guys, uh, heading to the market?”

Lucifer nodded. “Yeah. You look like you just got back and all, but do you wanna come with us?”

Surprised by the offer, Sam didn’t know what to say at first. This boy had gone from avoiding him all week, to now suddenly inviting him to walk with him and his brother. Pausing for a moment, Sam then nodded quickly, a small smile stretching across his face. Maybe Lucifer wasn’t so bad after all. He felt relieved that Sam hadn’t scared him off the first day that they had met.

“Sure!”

Lucifer smiled in return. “Great. That okay with you, Gabe?”

Gabriel nodded affirmatively, with all the command and authority that a four-year old could muster.

“Yeah. But only if he likes matchbox cars. I don’t wanna play with no one who don’t like matchbox cars,” he said firmly.

Lucifer gave Sam an exasperated look, which made them both begin to laugh. Joining the two of them, Sam felt much more at ease around the strange boy now that his goofy little brother was around. He noticed the music-pendant necklace hanging from Lucifer’s neck, just as it had the week previously.

“I never really said thank-you for finding my necklace,” Lucifer said after a moment. Gabriel had, sure enough, taken a matchbox car out of his pocket, and was pretending to drive it along an invisible road in the air as they made their way to the store. Sam nodded, a little surprised that Lucifer was so relieved to have it back. Briefly, he recalled Michael having said something about it once belonging to their mother. He wondered if that had anything to do with it.

“Yeah, it was no problem,” Sam replied. Lucier’s hand that wasn’t holding Gabriel’s instinctively went to the pendant, his hand closing around it protectively.

Sam’s first instinct was to ask about it, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He had finally, possibly, been able to make a friend and didn’t want to ruin it now. Gabriel was making beeping and honking noises, making the car go up and down invisible hills in the air. He charged straight for a puddle on the side of the road, and only his brother’s firm hand on his shoulder stopped him from charging headlong into the mud.

“Pa’s gonna be home tonight,” Lucifer said firmly, yanking Gabriel back. “So don’t go getting your pants all dirty, okay?” Gabriel looked at him with a worried expression, his body relaxing.

“I don’t want Papa to come home tonight,” he said quietly. Lucifer shook his head.

“Doesn’t matter. Don’t get yourself all scruffy, okay?” Gabriel nodded solemnly, the playfulness in his expression gone.

“Gabriel doesn’t like it when our Pa is home,” Lucifer explained. Sam nodded. He couldn’t imagine not wanting his father to come home. Although Dean looked forward to it more than anything, Sam didn’t get to see his dad much either, and liked having him home.

“My dad isn’t home much either,” Sam told him. “On days he doesn’t work, he’s usually real tired. Dean looks after me usually. But he hasn’t been home much lately.”

“I think I saw him yesterday,” Lucifer said. “With my brother Castiel. They were walking somewhere.”

Sam frowned. Pamela had said the same thing, but Dean hadn’t mentioned him all week. He hadn’t heard Dean mention Castiel at all in the week that they had been here. He was surprised they had become friends so quickly.

“Oh. Guess that explains it.”

Lucifer nodded, growing quiet once again. Gabriel was making soft, quiet motor sounds as he held his matchbox car in his small hands, focused on the invisible road ahead of him. There was a youthful innocence that Gabriel exhibited, despite his displeasure at having his father come home that night, that was lost in Lucifer, despite him being only nine years old. Lucifer already seemed heavily burdened with some sort of weight that was hard to pick out to the casual observer, something that showed the boy had years in his eyes that went beyond just his physical age.

When they reached the grocery store, Sam watched Gabriel and Lucifer pick off the things from their list- milk, juice, and several boxes of cereal. Sam watched in amusement as Gabriel marched over the his brother with an armful of assorted candy, insisting that they buy all of it right away.

“Gabriel, go put it back.”

“No.”

“Gabriel-”

“I’ll call the cops on you if you don’t buy all this candy right now!” Gabriel threatened, which brought a laugh out of Sam.

Lucifer sighed. “Gabe, we don’t have enough money,” he said quietly. Gabriel looked heartbroken. Tears began gathering at the edges of his eyes, sadness dripping into his voice as he pleaded with his brother.

Sam reached into his pocket, pulling out the last 12 cents that he had, and held his hand out to the older of the two brothers.

“Here. I know it isn’t much, but you can probably get him something.”

Lucifer looked at Sam solemnly. “No. It’s okay,” he said. Gabriel was crying quietly now- not the kind of temper-tantrum crying that was common in children his age, but the kind of tears that showed true sadness in his eyes. Sam wondered when the last time the kid ever even had a Snickers bar.

“Really. Here, Gabriel, go pick out what you want.”

Gabriel’s eyes lit up, and suddenly he charged forward and flung his arms around Sam’s middle in a tight, excited hug, nearly knocking Sam over in the middle of the aisle.

“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m gonna give you all my matchbox cars. I only have two but you can have both of them!” Gratefully taking the money from Sam’s hand, Gabriel charged down the aisle in search for what he could buy. Lucifer looked at Sam with gratitude, smiling a little as he watched his brother whoop and holler in excitement.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said. Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Dad lays money out on the counter for us everyday before he runs off to work. I had some extra in my pocket. He gets excited real easy doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. He does. He’s such an actor most of the time. But I try to keep him from being home too much. Our Pa frightens him.”

He didn’t say anymore on the matter, and Sam didn’t ask. When they left the grocery store, Gabriel with his two Snickers bars, and Lucifer with the rest of their groceries.

"Should we...do this again?" Sam asked, a small smile spreading across his face. Lucifer nodded, nudging his brother with his arm.

"Whaddya think, Gabe?" he asked. The boy nodded in approval, chewing his candy with gusto.

"Yeah! I like him." Sam laughed. He was happy making the little kid smile- and if nothing else, it seemed to make Lucifer happy too.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" Lucifer asked quietly. The question surprised Sam, but nevertheless made him smile. He was relieved that the majority of the tension between them seemed almost entirely resolved. While Lucifer still didn't seem entirely at ease around Sam- or really anywhere he went- it was better than the awkward, forced conversation from the weeks before.

"'Course!" Sam chirped happily. Lucifer nodded once, content with the arrangement. They didn't speak the rest of the way, walking in the relatively comfortable silence, only broken by the sounds of Gabriel's quiet car noises.

They said their goodbyes at the end of the cul-de-sac, Gabriel waving at him enthusiastically as their parted ways. Sam expected Dean to snap at him for taking so long, but as he set the groceries down on their tiny kitchen table, Sam couldn't find him anywhere.

"Dean!" Sam called out. Hurried footsteps came from upstairs, before Dean came hurrying down the stairs, a boy about two years or so older than him following him shyly. Sam immediately recognized the boy as Castiel, one of Lucifer’s older brothers.

"Oh. Hey," Dean said quickly as he hurried into the kitchen. The older boy, following close behind, gave him a small wave.

"This is Cas," Dean said. "Lives next door." Cas smiled at Sam a little, glancing at Dean nervously. Sam waved at him.

"I should probably get going,” Castiel said quickly. Much like his younger brother, he seemed nervous, a little unease at being around other people. “Michael isn’t home and Lucifer and Gabe...well, you know…”

“Yeah. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

"You too."

Cas waved goodbye to Sam, shutting the front door behind him. Frowning, Sam began unpacking the grocery bags.

"What's up with him?" Sam asked. Were all of the Novaks this weird? He thought he'd grow to like Lucifer, but were they all this quiet at first?

"Nothing. Why?"

"Dunno...he just seems a little odd."

"He's fine." Dean was clearly trying to avoid broaching the subject. Shrugging his shoulders, Sam helped his brother put the groceries away in the cabinets. Maybe he’d ask Lucifer about it later.

“You make friends with Cas’s brother yet? That kid looks like he’s ready to kill me in his sleep?”

“He’s nice, Dean,” his brother said patiently. “I’m going to hang out with him tomorrow. Is Cas nice?”

Dean nodded, taking a swig of milk directly out of the jug. “Yeah. He’s a pretty swell guy.”

Scowling at his brother, Sam made a lunge for the milk carton, trying to grab it away from Dean in disgust. “That’s so gross! Quit doing that!”

Dean laughed and dodged his grab, running around the kitchen as Sam tried to seize the bottle from his grasp.

“Dude! Cut it out!” But even so, Sam was laughing, landing a punch to Dean’s gut when he splashed milk in his hair. The ending results were them wrestling on the ground with half the carton of milk spilled on the floor, and hurriedly cleaning it up before their father got home.

That night, Sam laid awake in bed, feeling tired even though he was unable to sleep. His window, as usual, was open to allow the night-time breeze to drift through his room. As he laid there, he realized with surprise that he could hear piano music, faintly drifting through his open window from outside just as he had a couple of weeks prior.

He ran to his open window, gazing outside to better hear the music, softly and melodically drifting through the night-time air. He hadn’t heard it in weeks- since the last time he and Lucifer had spent any time together. Sam knew it had to be Lucifer playing; he heard mentions of Lucifer playing the piano on more than one occasion. But what amazed him was how...different the music was. Sam had never heard music so dark and sinister, yet so beautiful at the same time. He found that it was slowly causing him to nod off, his eyes shutting sleepily despite the fact that he had just been so wide awake.

He dragged himself away from the window, laying down on his bed once again. The music was faint, barely audible even in the quiet of his bedroom, but even so it caused his eyelids to droop and feel heavy.

Occasionally the music would change key, drifting up higher or lower. And then, slowly, it would repeat verses, and the song would start over again. Sam didn’t question why Lucifer was playing so late at night, or why it didn't stop so suddenly like it had when he had played it a couple of weeks prior. Only that it made him sleepy, and that he wanted to keep listening to it over and over again. At last, Sam drifted off to sleep. But even though Sam could no longer hear it anymore, the music still continued to play, dipping and rising in key and pitch, tapering and growing in volume. It continued like this for nearly an hour, before the player himself found that the music too was making him tired, and drifted off to sleep on his piano bench.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all of the lovely comments and kudos-- I appreciate every last one of them!  
> I hope this isn't starting out too slowly. If anyone thinks it perhaps is dragging just a little bit, let me know. I know where I want to take this, I just want to make sure the build-up isn't too quick, or too long.  
> Thank you again!

**July, 1955**

Sam had the feeling that something was wrong when Lucifer failed to meet him at the old oak tree the next day. His biggest worry was that he didn’t want anything to do with Sam- that the kindness he showed Sam the day before had just been an act, and that Lucifer really just wanted to be left alone. Sam glanced at the Novak house again, but there wasn’t a single sign of Lucifer or his little brother coming from the house. He decided he would wait five more minutes before he knocked on their door. The tiny clock on the kitchen counter read 12:05 when he left, but that was easily fifteen minutes ago.

Just as before, it was a nice day outside. Hot and muggy, but still nice with a pleasant breeze.

But after five minutes, Lucifer still didn’t show. Sam saw that two cars were parked in the garage, as opposed to the single one that had been there in the weeks before. They had to be home, unless Lucifer was out walking some place around time.

 _It won’t hurt to try_ , Sam thought to himself as he glanced at the house again. _If there’s no answer, I’ll just go home._

He crossed their yard slowly, taking his time as he walked, before knocking twice on their door. No response. The second car in the driveway was black, as opposed to Michael’s yellow one that he had seen before. It must have belonged to their father.

Both of these cars were in the garage. There had to be someone home. He tried again, but even still, there was no response. Sam sighed in disappointment; he had been looking forward to today all night. Plus, he wanted to ask Lucifer about his piano playing again. Just as he was about to give up and go home, the door flew open violently, startling him. He almost didn’t see Gabriel’s tiny figure standing in the doorway, trying to sniffle away the tears streaming down his face.

“Gabriel?” Sam asked with a start. The little boy was openly crying, and just like the night before, with true sadness in his eyes that didn’t indicate any signs of tantrum or anger in his expression. He looked frightened if nothing else. With a start, Sam realized that a large bruise covered the side of the young boy’s face, just like the one that Sam had seen across Lucifer’s on the day they had first met.

“They keep fighting,” he whimpered. Sam opened his mouth to ask what he meant, but the little boy only shook his head.

Almost immediately, Lucifer rounded the corner and seized Gabriel’s hand, pulling him violently out of the house. Sam wasn’t even sure if Lucifer saw him at first, his only focus on getting Gabriel out the door and into their front yard. Once it was shut behind them, Lucifer rounded on Sam, looking tired and furiously angry.

“It’s okay, Gabriel...It’s okay…I am so sorry…”

He knelt in front of his little brother, giving Sam a weary glance as he gently placed a hand on the side of Gabriel’s face, desperately trying to soothe his shaking and crying with hugs and embraces. Finally, Gabriel seemed to stop, leaving Sam mystified as he hurried off of their porch. Lucifer only looked relieved to be outside.

“Come on,” Lucifer said to both Sam and his brother. In silence, Sam followed the two brothers, now hand-in-hand, as they walked away from the house. Sam had to practically jog to keep up with Lucifer’s quick pace-- clearly, he just wanted to put as much distance between the house and Gabriel as possible. They hurried across the street, down the sidewalk parallel to the one they had walked down the day before.

"What happened?" he asked. Gabriel clung to his brother's hand tightly, looking at Lucifer with fear in his eyes.

He shook his head. Now wasn’t the time.

“I don’t want Daddy to be home,” Gabriel said quietly. Lucifer picked him up, wincing under his brother’s weight, trying to calm him.

“We’re gonna go to the park, okay?” Gabriel sniffed, rubbing his eyes as he nodded. Wordlessly, Sam followed the two brothers, wishing there was more he could do to help. Unlike the weeks before, Sam didn't have the overwhelming feeling that Lucifer did not want him to be there. Occasionally, Gabriel would look up at Sam, as if making sure he was still there with them, but otherwise they walked in silence. The bruise on Gabriel’s face disturbed him-- had their father really hit the boy like that?

"I didn't know there was a park nearby," Sam said after a moment, hoping to break the tense silence. Lucifer nodded.

"It's super neat!" Gabriel exclaimed, suddenly perking up as he wiped the tears from his eyes, gingerly to avoid hurting his bruise. "There's a super huge pirate ship and- and a big wooden horse just like The Lone Ranger has! Do you ever listen to The Lone Ranger? He's a /really/ swell guy-"

"I'm sure Sam has listened to The Lone Ranger before, Gabriel," Lucifer said. Sam grinned.

"Dean likes it more than I do. It's his favorite."

That seemed to please Gabriel well enough. The walk to the park was short- instead of taking the quiet road up to main street past Pamela’s house, they turned left at Cedar and headed down a more empty side of town. The park was in the middle of a grassy field by the Church of Uriel.

Gabriel took off, sprinting excitedly towards the park. Before Lucifer could tell him to wait, he was already scrambling on top of the giant wooden horse in the middle of the swing-set and slide. Following close behind, the two boys followed the excited four-year old, now whooping and hollering on top of the giant horse. The two older boys wandered over to the swingset, taking one swing as they watched the younger boy climb and scale the giant wooden horse.

“He seems happier,” Sam commented. Lucifer nodded.

“Yeah,” he after a moment. “I had to get him out of there before everything got...worse.” He never took his eyes off of his brother, still shaking with anxiety. Just as Dean did from time to time, Sam instinctively placed a hand on Lucifer’s arm, which seemed to calm him significantly. He continued to stare straight ahead, his breathing slowing to a more calm, steady rhythm.

The bruise that had once marked the side of Lucifer’s face was beginning to fade, but it was still prominent as it was weeks ago. Sam knew all at once that the bruise was not from falling out of the tree. His father had hit him, too.

“Don’t tell anyone,” he said suddenly, his head whipping around to face Sam. “ _Ever_.” His expression had grown dark and menacing. Lucifer did not verbally threaten Sam of the consequences, should he tell anybody, but he didn’t need to. The darkness in his eyes said it all.

Sam nodded quickly, suddenly afraid, as if Lucifer would actually try and hurt him. Even at their young age, Sam was still noticeably bigger than the other boy. Not quite as deathly thin, or as short. Lucifer was probably closer to Gabriel’s height than to Castiel’s, his next-older brother. Still, Lucifer had a dark presence to him that he would single-handedly destroy anybody that gave him a wrong look or gaze.

“Still,” he said, his voice growing softer. “I like coming here. It’s usually quiet before noon hits and the other kids start pouring in. Gabriel has a few friends that he likes to play with, but I like it when it’s quieter.”

From up above, Gabriel whooped and hollered, trying to stand on top of the horse’s head. They watched him in amusement. Gabriel was the sort of kid that you could just entertain yourself with for hours- he rarely complained, and when he did, it was about something that was truly, sincerely bothering him. Sam could tell that Lucifer liked bringing his little brother along wherever he went, simply because of the company the little boy provided.

“I don’t want to ever bring him home,” Lucifer said quietly.

The sky had grown darkly cloudy, the wind picking up and tossing Sam’s and Gabriel’s hair as the clouds threatened of storm. It had been sunny what seemed like only moments ago. But in Kansas, the weather was never fully predictable. Gabriel only seemed to enjoy the weather more, holding his head up high as the wind tossed his blonde hair every which way.

“Then don’t. Keep him away forever.”

“If I could, I would. Michael is the one who takes care of us most of the time. But Gabe doesn’t like him. And my brother Cas is usually out with friends or whatever he does. He doesn’t like being home either.”

Sam couldn’t imagine not liking being at home. Sure, his dad was busy. But he and Dean usually got along really well, and when their dad was home, they’d all eat dinner together or try to play football outside, when he wasn’t super tired.

“Does your brother hate you?” Lucifer asked suddenly. Surprised by the question, Sam frowned and shook his head immediately.

“No. No way. He’s my brother. He helps make me dinner and everything and helps me with my homework sometimes. Why would he hate me?”

“Because Michael hates all of us,” Lucifer said.

“He can’t hate you. He’s your brother.”

“Well he does!” Lucifer insisted. “He even says so himself. He hates all of us and Castiel is never around, and never stands up to Michael even though he’s almost the oldest. Raphael hates us too- he left for college a long time ago and never came back.”

“He hates us,” he repeated, his voice trembling on the verge of anxiety again. Sam lifted his hand to place it on the boy’s shoulder again, but he shook him off, not wanting physical touch. He stared at Sam with wide, set eyes, as if willing him to understand what he meant. Sam couldn’t imagine his own brother hating him- sure, they had fights sometimes. Sometimes they’d punch each other and call each other names. But they didn’t hate one another.

“What about your dad? Does he work?” Sam asked.

“He...he isn’t ever home. It doesn’t matter about him. He drives trucks around a lot and sometimes comes home when he feels like it. When he gets home, he only ever argues with Michael and hits me and Gabe.

“Well you can always come over to my house,” Sam said after a minute. “Usually it’s just me and Dean. But when my dad’s home, he usually isn’t so bad. Dean would probably like Gabriel.”

Lucifer actually smiled a little a the thought.

“Yeah. Maybe. Michael doesn’t care what we do, as long as we’re back in time for supper.”

“You could eat supper at my house! Usually it’s just me and Dean and it’s super boring. You and Gabriel and Castiel could all come over and it’d be the best thing ever!”

“That would be real swell,” he said quietly, a small smile on his face. Sam was content.

“ _Luciiiii_!” Gabriel’s high, ringing voice echoed over the park from where he stood on top of the slide. On instinct, Lucifer’s head shot up in sudden panic. But Gabriel was fine, a bright smile on the boy’s face.

“Don’t call me that, Gabe,” his brother grumbled. Sam laughed, and Lucifer shot him a look.

“That’s a girl’s name!” he said irritably. “Gabe won’t ever drop it, it’s like he’s trying to make me sound dumb!”

“Luci!” Gabe called out again.

Groaning, Lucifer hopped off the swing, jogging over up the playset to where his brother sat at the top of the slide. As Sam watched Lucifer help his brother, he vividly recalled a very similar situation- Dean, pushing him down the slide over and over again, countless times while their mother and father watched from the bottom. Sam would yell and whoop with joy, causing Dean to smile himself, with all the pride and joy of an older brother. Sam was young, but he could still remember his mother’s smile from the earthy mulch on that warm, spring day. It was the only memory he had of her. According to Dean, that had been only a week before the fire that had killed their mother, and ruined their childhood home.

Blinking away the vision, Sam watch Lucifer push his brother down the slide. He was grimacing, as if something were troubling him. Gabriel laughed and threw his arms up as he went sailing down the slide.

“We need to go home soon,” Sam heard Lucifer tell his brother. Gabriel shook his head.

“No. I don’t wanna go home. Ever.”

“I know, Gabe. We have to or Michael will get mad.”

“Michael ain’t the boss of me!” Gabriel huffed, stubbornly crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Gabriel. Let’s go.”

He looked impossibly sad; Sam wondered if Gabriel was even capable of throwing temper-tantrums like most normal four-year old boys. Any time he disagreed or wanted something, he never screamed or got angry. He only had the saddest, most innocent look in his eye. Regardless, Gabriel listened to his brother.

“Thank you for coming with us,” Lucifer said to Sam. Wordlessly, Sam nodded and followed the two brothers out of the park, on the short walk back to their houses. Just as before, Sam noticed the music-pendant necklace hanging around Lucifer’s neck, plain and simple as it been the day Sam found it under the old oak tree.

“They should be done fighting by now,” Lucifer said, so quietly that Sam barely heard him. Gabriel, making car noises with the tiny matchbox car in his hand, didn’t notice.

But Lucifer quickly found that he was wrong. No sooner had they re-entered the cul-de-sac, that they heard yelling coming from the Novak house. Lucifer’s face paled, and Gabriel froze where he stood, his amber eyes growing wide with fear. Loud enough to be heard throughout the neighborhood, Lucifer immediately recognized the angry, rising voices of his father and older brother. Gabriel gripped his brother’s hand tightly.

“Luci, I don’t wanna go home-”

“Hush, Gabriel.”

Feeling a pit form in his stomach, Sam willed himself to follow the two boys across the street and into the yard.

“Luci, Luci,  _I don’t wanna go_ -” his brother pleaded.

“I have to go shut them up, Gabe. Come on.”

The three of them were standing in front of the Novak house, a cold, hard pit forming in Sam’s stomach as he listened to the screaming that could surely be heard throughout the neighborhood. A man’s voice, surely Lucifer and Gabriel’s father, was yelling at Michael, saying that he was irresponsible and a mess of a person, unable to take care of his own brothers. Sam’s mind was reeling, searching for some way he could help, or at least make the situation better. Gabriel was openly crying now, and Lucifer was gripping his brother's hand so tightly, his knuckles were white. Whatever was going on in that house, it was ugly.

“Don’t go,” Sam whispered urgently. “Just come back to my house.”

“No, no, I have to stop them, I have to-”

He let go of Gabriel’s hand, looking between the two boys and his house, fear in his eyes.

“Lucifer, is everything okay?” a voice behind him asked. “I saw dad come home, but I didn’t think-”

“ _No!_ ” Lucifer hissed, his teeth bearing as he stalked over to his brother. “They’re fighting again-”

“Oh my God. Again?!” Castiel demanded. “Lucifer, what happened?” he asked urgently. “Did he hit Gabriel again?” Sam watched as Castiel looked between Lucifer and Gabriel in horror.

“Why don’t you ever stop them?!” Lucifer yelled at his brother. Stunned, Castiel backed away, his mouth dropping open at the accusation.

“What the hell are you talking about?!” he demanded. “It isn’t my job to do anything! I don’t go poking my nose where it doesn’t belong like you if that’s what you’re asking. What the hell has gotten into you?”

But Lucifer was angry. Not the calm, controlled anger from earlier on that day, but the kind of explosive, raging fury that froze Sam and Gabriel in place on the sidewalk.

“ _It’s your fault!_ ” he shouted, tears forming in his eyes. “You never stop them!”

Lucifer shoved his brother with surprising strength, and Castiel stumbled back, falling back onto the street and hitting his head hard against the pavement. Gabriel broke free from Lucifer’s grasp and ran over to his brothers, tugging and pulling on Lucifer’s shirt, begging and pleading with him to stop. The sound of his little brother’s voice seemed to calm him almost immediately. With a groan, Castiel stumbled to his feet. clutching the back of his head in pain.

“We’re going inside, Gabriel,” he said quietly. “We’ll play the piano upstairs, okay? Away from Michael and Papa.”

“Okay, Luci.”

Lucifer looked at Sam.

“Thank you,” he said. Before Sam could reply, Lucifer lead his brother into the house, closing the door behind him. Castiel stood outside, staring at the house. Tears burned in his eyes, and he didn’t look at Sam. After a moment, he let out a shaky breath and hurried inside, leaving Sam alone and mystified on the street.

Dean was pulling a shirt on when he walked into the house, pouring himself a glass of water.  
“Hey, is everything okay down at Cas’s house?” Dean asked when Sam walked into the kitchen.

“He left in a hell of a hurry when he saw you walking home with his younger brothers.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s real bad, Dean. Their dad...I dunno...he’s just...” He paused, before relaying the rest of the information to his brother. The bruise on Gabriel’s face, the crying, the fighting. When he was done, Dean looked ready to leap out of the chair and go to the house himself.

“But there isn’t anything we can do,” Sam told him.

Dean looked out the window in the direction of the house, a frown spreading across his face.

“That’s why he’s so quiet all the time,” he murmured. “Cas...he’s awesome, but he’s quiet. Nervous a lot.”

“Lucifer is too.”

They looked at each other.

“We’ll talk to dad about it tonight, how’s that?” he asked. “He’ll know what to do.”

Sam wasn’t entirely convinced, but he nodded in agreement, telling Dean he was going to see what was playing on the radio. Sam didn’t know how to fix the problem at hand; all he knew was that he didn’t want to lose the only friend he possibly had while the summer days still lasted. He liked Lucifer, even if he was strange, and quiet. And it was unfair for what was happening to the family. Convinced he would make it better somehow, Sam sat on their couch, slumped over one of the pillows as the Long Ranger sounded over the radio.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**September, 1955**

The creak of the bedroom door opening behind made Lucifer’s blood run cold as he crept down the hallway. He froze, fearing the worst, as he stood paralyzed in the near pitch-black outside of his room. If Michael caught him, he was dead-meat. Clutching his backpack tightly, Lucifer tensed, preparing himself for a slap, or for Michael to start yelling.

“Luci?” Gabriel’s tiny voice whispered. Lucifer sighed in relief, quickly motioning for Gabriel to be quiet.

“Gabriel, I’m going out for a bit. Don’t tell Michael. Just go back to bed. Remember what I said this morning?”

“I wanna come,” the younger boy whimpered. Lucifer shook his head. “ _Please_ , Luci, I wanna come-”

“No, Gabriel. I promise I’ll be back soon...just don’t tell Michael, okay? Please, Gabe. Go to bed,” Lucifer begged quietly.

“I’m scared of Papa.”

“He isn’t home tonight.”

“But what if he comes home?”

“He isn’t going to come home. Not tonight.”

Gabriel looked up at his brother with wide eyes, his full-suited pajama outfit making him appear even younger than he already was. Awoken by the sounds of footsteps which he had been so accustomed to fear, he bolted out of his bed, only to find his older brother creeping down the hallway, backpack slung over his shoulder. His eyes were wide and confused, clutching a raggedy angel doll in his hand.

“Well...where are you going?” he asked. Lucifer hushed him and shook his head, looking frantically around for any sign of Michael or Castiel. He wasn’t afraid of Castiel-- but he would surely tell Michael if he caught Lucifer trying to sneak out of the house.

“Remember I have a job I go to at night?” he asked quietly. “The secret job we talked about today? It’s a super secret. Not even Castiel can know...but you gotta let me go, Gabe. Remember? It’s like a super secret mission? And soon we’ll get candy and all sorts of things...you just gotta let me go, okay?”

That seemed to calm the young boy well enough. Lucifer could almost swear he saw him smile.

“What’s your job gonna be again?”

Lucifer sighed, glancing anxiously around the hallway again. Still no sign of his older brothers. Placing a hand on Gabriel’s shoulders, he gently lead him back into the room they both shared, before tucking him into bed.

“I’m gonna play the piano.”

 

* * *

 

The tiredness in the boy’s eyes was unnatural for his age, at least Dean Winchester thought so when he spotted the weird kid walking down the street as he made his way to the grocery store the day after. It was his week to get groceries, and he hated the job above everything else. And as much as it pained him to admit it, he felt like crap not being able to hang out with Castiel. The boy was quiet and shy, and anyone who knew Dean Winchester would have risen an eyebrow at his quick choice of friendship with the boy; the two couldn’t have been more different than one another. Once school started, which would be in only a couple of weeks, he would make other friends. But for the time being, Castiel was the only one his age that he actually knew and liked.

Liked a lot.

Distracting himself, Dean watched as Castiel’s immediate younger brother slumped down the other sidewalk, looking completely exhausted. It was odd to see a boy that young seem so aged; even Sammy always had some sort of energy buzzing around inside of him. But Lucifer only looked worn-down, like he had just returned home from some great war. Dean didn’t say anything to him as he walked past. Dean hadn’t seen much of the Novaks since the day after the fight. Only little times here and there where Sam and Lucifer would sit outside, or take Lucifer’s little brother to the park. Once, Dean had tried going to their door, only to have Castiel answer that he wouldn’t be coming outside for a while. It had been two whole months since he had really been able to enjoy himself. Mostly, he hung out with Sam and listened to the Lone Ranger with their dad when he was home. Which, especially these days, was not often.

Their dad’s work hours increased in the fall. But soon, they would be at school. And as much as Dean Winchester would never admit it, he was terrified. His first year of high school in a new school was horrifying to him. He was good at faking the confidence in his old school; everyone knew him, and it was easy to lose himself in the crowd. But now?

Now he wasn’t so sure. Pretending he liked to kiss girls would only get him so far, especially now that he was in high school. That just didn’t work anymore.

He didn’t know. But if there was one thing that he did know, it was that something looked really wrong with that kid with the messy blonde hair, who was all skin and bone like Lucifer Novak was.

Whatever. That whole family was nuts for all he knew. While he didn’t think it was right to live in a situation like that, both Dean and his father agreed there was nothing they could do about it. And it wouldn’t prevent him from hanging out with Cas, who seemed like the only normal one in the family.

The guy was a little weird, Dean would admit. Quiet, but had a good sense of humor. They liked the same kinds of things. Dean hadn’t told his brother or his father about the “incident” that had happened shortly after they’d moved in. He hadn’t wanted to talk about it, and even thinking about it still made him cringe. The incident that, consequently, lead to him meeting Castiel Novak for the first time.

 

* * *

 

He was bored, which Dean would soon find over the course of his life, most of his shitty decisions came from that simple fact; he was bored, and had nothing better to do. So he snuck into the bar, late at night, where he wasn’t suppose to be. It wasn’t like he could order any drinks or anything. He was still young and had the full appearance of a fourteen-year old boy.

But it had been late at night, and his dad wasn’t due to be home until at least five in the morning from his regular shift. Sammy was asleep, tucked safely in bed and the bar really wasn’t that far away. He had never really been in one before, and all the guys did it on the television shows he watched. At the time, it seemed like a good idea.

He double-checked that Sam was asleep and locked every door and window in the house before leaving. making sure nothing could get in or out while he was gone, and made his way down the street. It was perhaps two weeks after they had moved in, but he had gotten a feel for the town overall. It wasn’t that big, and he knew finding his way around would be no problem at all. Not to mention there was something so  _exciting_ about being out so late at night. Although he was doing nothing wrong, he found a certain thrill in climbing out his window, feet thudding against the grassy yard as he made his way towards the sidewalk. The moon was half-full, and Dean felt like he was the only boy alive. He would be perfectly fine

Or at least, he thought so, anyway.

Of course, Dean had managed to get himself lost in just under a half hour. Wandering around the town in the middle of the night, Dean tried to swallow his sense of impending doom as he tried to at least find his way back to the house. But every turn and dash behind a dark alley only seemed to make him lose his way even more. As he turned a corner, he found that he had come across some sort of brothel, one that looked old and worn-down, yet still in use judging by the music drifting from the rotted, wooden door.

He just wanted to go home already. As Dean willed himself not to cry, not even caring if he found the bar or not at this point, he felt a hand seize his wrist, and a mouth over his hand before he could cry out in fear.

“ _Little kids like you shouldn’t be scampering about so late at night_ ,” a man's cruel voice hissed in his ear. Dean kicked him in the skin with the heel of his foot, his heart thudding in his chest, but the man only chuckled, digging his fingernails into Dean’s wrist.

“It’s always the young ones. Why don’t I take you inside so my boss can take a look at ya? Huh?”

Dean had no idea what the man meant, only that his kicking and muffled screaming did next to nothing but anger the man further. He slapped Dean across the face, sending him stumbling over to the ground. Before he could jump to his feet, the man had already kicked him hard in the ribs, and Dean uttered a strangled groan of pain.

“Come on, little ‘un, let us take a look at you…” He reached down and grabbed Dean by the shirt, but that was about as far as the man ever got.

Paralyzed with fear and with pain, Dean squeezed his eyes shut, prepared for the worst, until he heard a loud clang! and suddenly the man was howling in pain.

Two hands, much smaller than the ones that had recently touched him before, grabbed at his shoulders, heaving him to his feet despite the jarring pain in his ribs.

“Run!” a voice hissed. One hand grabbed his wrist and dragged him out of the alley, the figure in the dark charging ahead of him, half-dragging Dean with him. Dean had no idea where they were going, or who this boy even was, at first. It wasn’t until they reached the familiar sidewalk that Dean realized he was nearing his house. Their pace finally slowed, and only when they were certain they weren’t being followed did they stop to catch their breath.

“I’m Castiel,” the boy said when they finally stopped heaving for air. They stood underneath a street light, illuminating only the two of them in the dark of the night.  Dean stood upright, swallowing nervously as he nodded at the boy.

Castiel was a little bit taller than Dean, with short, black hair, and wore a long coat that came down to his knees. It was hard to make out his facial features at first, his eyes not having adjusted to the light yet, however Dean could make out that Castiel had the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen.

“I’m Dean. Uh…”

He wanted to say thank you, but he wasn’t even sure what he’d be thanking the boy for. Even now, with his thudding heart finally calming down from the racing in his chest, he had no idea what had even happened back there, or who this guy even was.

“What were you doing over there?” Castiel asked quietly, mild alarm in his voice. Dean blinked, finding it hard to find words.

“I couldn’t sleep…” he mumbled. “Wanted to just...get out for a bit...how did you know where I live?”

“You live here?” Castiel asked in surprise. “I didn’t realize that was you...I live right over there.

He pointed to the house next to Dean’s. So they were neighbors. That was a coincidence.

“I just moved in. I live there, next door with my brother, Sam.”

He nodded, giving Dean a small smile. Dean wanted to ask what he was doing out this late-- it wasn’t exactly normal for kids their age to be out so late at night, and they both risked getting into trouble for being out after dark. But he didn’t know where to start.

“How did you get that guy?” Dean asked, blinking in amazement. “That was- that was-”

“Trash-can lid,” Castiel said, a small smile stretching across his face in pride. Dean gaped at him. Everything had happened so fast back there.

“Well...golly. Thanks. I, uh, really woulda been dead back there if it weren’t for you.”

Dean was still shaken from what had happened back in the alley. And while he never would go there at night (or even daylight) ever again, he was still terrified the man might be following them, or watching them even now.

“No problem,” he said quietly.

They stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say or what to do next. Going home was the smartest and safest option-- but it didn’t feel right to leave now, after this guy had saved Dean’s life. What did you say to a guy who had just knocked out some possible murderer-pedophile, or whatever that guy was about to get out of Dean?

“What were you doing back there?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

Castiel immediately looked uncomfortable with the question, and he shook his head, shrugging his shoulders a little. All of a sudden, he wasn’t looking at Dean, but at the ground like he wanted to avoid the question altogether.

“Just walking around,” he said. But Dean, who had immediately regretted asking the question, didn’t push him any further

“I guess we should go home now, huh?” he asked. Cas laughed a little and nodded, looking around. It was so quiet, save for the sounds of a few bats and crickets, that they felt like they were the only ones in the entire town.

“Yeah. We probably should.”

They walked the rest of the way to their houses in silence. There was so much Dean still wanted to say to him, and a million other questions he wanted to ask. But he kept quiet, figuring they could wait until morning.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Dean asked when they reached the old oak tree that divided their properties. Without the street light, it was difficult to see the other boy in the dark, but Dean imagined he could see him smile.

“Definitely,” he said. Dean grinned.

“Sounds good. Thanks again...I really, uh...really appreciate it.”

But Castiel was already gone.

 

* * *

 

The piano was large and grand, much larger than the one he had in his room at home. This was the second time he had been to this house, and even now, it intimidated him. Sitting on the stool, Lucifer spread his fingers across the keys, staring down at the piano in deep thought. Just as last week, there wasn’t enough light to see the music properly, and he had to squint just to see the notes,

“You’re playing for me tonight?” the man behind him asked. Lucifer nodded. Gordon was his name, who lived on the other side of town, down the road from Pamela’s house. Lucifer’s hands trembled on the keys.

“Yes,” he said.

“Then play. I don’t pay you to just sit there.”

He played. It was a simple piece, something by Beethoven that he didn’t remember the name of. He didn’t pay any attention to what the piece was called-- he just played. He thought, at first, if he played faster, he’d be done quicker. He’d get paid for the night and then he could go home. But, as he had quickly learned last week, that was the worst way to go about doing things. He had gotten slapped across the face by Gordon on only his first night playing for going too fast. He hit hard-- almost as hard as his father.

Lucifer never made that mistake again.

Gordon never said a word to Lucifer when he played. He just sat and listened. Lucifer didn’t mind this at all, for it just allowed him to lose himself in the music, and play until the piece was done. By that point, Gordon would  have another piece ready for him to play.

This was to be the routine. Being only the second time Lucifer had arrived at Gordon’s house, he was beginning to establish how this was going to work. He would listen to everything Gordon said, play whatever he wanted, and get paid at the end of the night and walk back to his house.

So he played. And Gordon watched his every move like a hawk of prey.

He was tall, with dark skin and dark hair, and an overall dark personality. He rarely spoke, but was never hesitant to deliver a slap in Lucifer’s direction if he played too fast, or made a mistake. On his first night, he made many. But tonight, he made very few and Gordon barely laid a hand on him.

This is how it would be from here on out. Lucifer would play, and Gordon would sit and watch in silence. At the end of the night, Gordon paid him $3 and didn’t say another word. Lucifer would leave in silence, and hurry home and try to get some sleep before he had to give Gabriel his breakfast. Only Gabriel knew about his secret job that he had once a week, and he never spoke a word. Lucifer would hide the money under his mattress, away from the rest of his brothers in silence.

 

* * *

 

“Ready for school next week, Sammy?” Dean asked his brother one particularly boring day, sitting at home. Sam shrugged, glancing out the window in silence. He was nervous, if nothing else. He wished he had Dean’s self-confidence when it came to school and being around new people. His older brother didn’t seem nervous at all about being the new kids on the first day of school, and Sam wondered how he managed to stay so calm. It would be Dean’s first year of high school this year, and he didn’t seem like it bothered him at all.

“You’ll do great,” he promised, slapping his brother on the back. Sam winced as he looked at the Novak house across the yard. He missed spending time with Lucifer. He had hardly seen him since the day of the incident. They said hi to each other, here and there and they spent some time together, usually with Gabriel in tow. Sam was lonely without his friend, and he vowed that he would try and spend more time with him as the summer came to an end.

Maybe it would change when school began next week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the lovely comments and kudos. I have a feeling I might be taking the plot of this a little bit too slowly, but I have a very good idea as to where I want to take it. Hopefully it isn't going to slow for everyone. Thank you all again! xx


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been super busy.
> 
> Just a heads up...I may not be able to post for a while. This certainly doesn't mean I'm giving up on this story, but with several school-related things coming up, I may need to focus on other projects for the time being. The National Art and Writing Scholarship awards are coming up, and I'll be entering an excerpt from my current novel that I recently finished the first draft to, but that means lots and lots of editing, and more focusing on that as opposed to this.
> 
> But, I will be finishing this story no matter how long it takes me. I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> This is a darker chapter. Trigger warnings of mentions of pedophilia and sexual abuse.

**September, 1955**

 

“Lucifer, can you please tell me who discovered America?”

Lucifer’s head shot up from his desk, and he blinked at the teacher, uncomprehending. Sam, who was sitting beside him, spared a pitying glance towards his friend. He had been sleeping on his desk, the tiredness in his eyes making it obvious that he had no idea what was going on. Lucifer looked completely confused, looking around the classroom anxiously as Mrs. Mills put her hands on her hips, looking at him sternly.

She hadn’t noticed him sleeping, but the penalty for falling asleep in class was a sharp slap across the wrist with the ruler that never left her side.

“Christopher Colombus,” Sam whispered under his breath, nudging him with his elbow. Lucifer repeated the name mechanically, his eyes wide as he tried to shake himself awake. Their teacher nodded, writing the name up on the board.

“Thank you, Lucifer…”

Lucifer had managed to find the seat that was the absolute furthest from the blackboard in the classroom on the first day. Sam, not wanting to be alone, sat beside him, even though he was very unused to sitting in the back. The teacher introduced him to the class, and they had stared at him blankly as they said hello. No sooner had the teacher began their daily lesson, than Lucifer passed out on his desk from sheer exhaustion, only to be woken by Mrs. Mill’s question.

The first day went somewhat well, overall. They ate their lunch together, even though Lucifer was half-asleep, and Sam managed to introduce himself to a boy named Garth who proudly claimed to be able to eat three sandwiches in less than five minutes. But even when it was time to go home, Lucifer was dragging his feet and barely said a word to Sam the entire way home. At least four times that day, Sam tried to ask him what was wrong, but Lucifer only shook his head.

“‘Mmh just tired,” he mumbled, wiping his eyes.

“Did you even sleep at all last night?”

He had, but only for about an hour. His job had run late that night, and Gordon kept him for an extra two hours, demanding that he replay two of the music pieces he had set in front of him. At the end of the night, he paid him $2, and Lucifer hurried home. But by the time he got back to his room, he couldn’t fall asleep for the life of him, and had stayed up in bed for most of the night. While he didn’t fully understand why, Gordon terrified him. The way he looked at him, the way he yelled and hit him when he made a mistake. It was nothing that he wasn’t used to at home. But it was different coming from a man he barely knew.

He had full control over him, and Lucifer desperately needed the money to take care of his little brother. And now, it was the first day of school, and Lucifer already was falling behind.

“What kinda teacher gives homework on the first day of school?” Sam grumbled, pulling the math assignments out of his backpack as they went home, having to catch Lucifer has he nearly stumbled on a crack in the sidewalk.

“Hey, look who it is!”

Sam whirled around, spotting a group of several boys behind them, all from their classroom. Sam couldn’t remember most of their names yet, only that the boy with the light brown hair was named Zachariah. He strode over to the two of them, shoving Lucifer from behind before Sam could make any move to stop him.

“Hey piano boy! I was talking to you!”

A sneer spread across the larger boy’s face. Tall with broad shoulders and dark brown hair, Zachariah was easily twice Lucifer’s size. Skinny and short, Lucifer looked up at Zachariah with a tired expression, no emotion showing upon his face.

“Gonna hand over those two dollars in your pocket, Lucy? Or should I sock ya one like last year?”

Before Sam could react, Lucifer drew his arm back and punched Zachariah straight in the mouth. The other kids gasped, scurrying away in fright as Zachariah howled in pain, stumbling back onto the sidewalk. Sam had to physically pull Lucifer away from attacking him again as Zachariah climbed to his feet, the two boys taking off down the sidewalk. Lucifer didn't even look angry. His expression remained calm and neutral, which made Sam's throat tighten in anxiety.

“You better run!” Zachariah snapped as Sam dragged Lucifer down the sidewalk, his hand gripped firmly around his wrist. They didn’t stop until Zachariah and his group of friends were out of sight.

Fuming, Lucifer wrenched his arm out of Sam’s grip as they came to a stop, lips pulled back in a snarl. Sam stared at him in bewilderment, hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. Up until then, he never thought Lucifer was even capable of raising his voice, let alone violence. Lucifer’s expression remained neutral, but the snarl on his face was undeniably menacing. Sam truly believed he would have kept at him had he not pulled him away.

“What was that all about?” he hissed.

“They don’t...like me very much,” he mumbled, eyes narrowing as he stared straight ahead. Without another word, Lucifer began walking down the sidewalk as Sam hurried to catch up, wanting to ask him more, but quickly deciding against it. He had no doubt in his mind that Lucifer would punch him right in the face if Sam even said one thing that was out of line. But by the time they got back to the house, Lucifer looked just as tired as he was in class again, the childlike sleepiness returning to his brown eyes. As they approached their houses, Lucifer saw Gabriel’s tiny face pressed against the window, eagerly awaiting his brother’s return from school.

“You should get some sleep,” Sam told him. Lucifer stared straight ahead, his face worn and tired as he rubbed the back of his head.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “I know. Gabe’s gonna wanna play though…”

“Just tell him you need to sleep.”

“Yeah…” murmured. Sam didn’t even think Lucifer heard him at all. Turning to Sam, Lucifer opened his mouth, wanting to tell him about Gordon and his new job, but quickly decided against it. The less people he told, the better. It put money in his pocket, enough for him and Gabe, and that was all that mattered.

And anyway, he wasn’t due to play for Gordon again until next week, until he started needing the money more, which was a relief.

But what made it worse, was that his dad was home more often during the fall, and he and Michael’s yelling would often go late into the night. His brother Castiel went out often too, usually just out of the house to escape the fighting, and didn’t return until late into the night. Lucifer never bothered to ask where he went-- in all reality, he didn’t care. He hated his older brother for never standing up to his father and Michael.

The only person he cared about was Gabriel, and Sam. He would never tell him, but Sam was becoming the only increasingly good thing in his life as the long days stretched on. They talked about the Lone Ranger and school and sometimes baseball. But never Lucifer’s piano-playing. That was a topic he was careful to avoid no matter what it took. Sometimes, they’d walk in silence, just enjoying the peacefulness of the day when the town was at it’s most quiet. That was what he liked most about Sam, he decided. He wasn’t like all the other annoying kids in school that had to talk every single minute of every single day. And he wasn’t mean either.

Sam was the first real friend he ever had.

Lucifer managed to sleep when he got home, after tiredly explaining to Gabriel that he was tired,  and had to sleep for a little bit before he could play. Thankfully, the four year old understood, even if it meant shedding a couple of tears first. Even Michael and his father managed to stay quiet for once, making it blissfully easier to drift off to sleep. Even though he awoke to screaming, he was well-rested enough to hurry Gabriel out of the house, much to both of their relief, before any hitting could occur.

He even had enough money to buy him a candy bar.

 

* * *

 

"...and you should have seen his _face!_ ” Dean laughed as the two of them walked home, instinctively going into his house as they did everyday. Castiel laughed along with him, relieved he didn’t have to go home after his first day of high school.

The classes had been interesting enough. And, much to his relief, the majority of the school’s bullies had left him alone. He and Dean had nearly every class together, something that made Castiel so happy he could sing. It was the first time he had a close friend in ages. Like Lucifer with Sam, Castiel had connected with Dean almost right away. He never wanted to leave his side. While he would never admit it to the older Winchester brother, he felt sad when he wasn’t around Dean, like some part of him that he never realized he had was missing. Dean made him feel safe, like all of his worries and problems were just...gone.

“Nothing better than “the new kid” manning up to Azazel like that,” Castiel said earnestly, unable to keep a proud smile off his face. “The guy’s a total wanger.”

Dean beamed in pride, laughing along with him. Azazel had made it his mission that day to get underneath Dean’s skin. Dean wouldn’t have it. So, he punched him, right in front of half the school during lunch. He hadn’t even gotten in trouble.

“Trust me, the whole school was waiting for someone to punch that guy right in the nose. I’m glad it was you,” he said earnestly, rubbing the back of his head.

“I don’t care if I’m new or not. No guy’s gonna talk to me that way for Chrissake!”

Castiel laughed. “Seriously though. That was the best. It was very brave of you to stand up to him like that...I wish…” he trailed off, looking away from Dean as a frown spread across his face. They entered Dean’s house together, quiet and undisturbed. Lucifer and Sam wouldn’t be home for another hour, much to Castiel’s relief.

“You wish what?” he asked, grabbing two soda bottles from his refrigerator.

Castiel sighed, setting his bookbag down on the kitchen table. Peace and quiet. Something he was so unaccustomed to, it was almost eerie. They were the only two in the house, and while it was such a relief to have the peace and quiet, it was almost unsettling.

“I wish I was that brave,” he said finally, fiddling with the zipper of his bag. Dean looked honestly surprised.

“But you said he’s never give you a hard time before,” he protested. “That doesn’t make you a coward or nothin’. Like you said, that guy was a total wanger to me! I know you woulda done the same thing if he had shoved you around like that.”

Castiel shrugged, still looking at the floor. “I don’t really mean like that,” he mumbled, shrugging his shoulders. Dean frowned and walked up to him, placing an uneasy hand on his shoulder.

“Lucifer, my younger brother, always tells me I’m a coward for not standing up to my older brother and dad when they fight and hit Lucifer and Gabriel. And I mean...he’s right, you know? Lucifer is so protective of Gabriel, but it should be my job to keep them safe when Michael won’t do it himself. And I never can. I just...run away. And that’s it. I...just watch whenever dad smacks Gabriel for no reason...and he cries and cries and Lucifer yells at him...and then he gets hit too...and I just don’t know what to say. So I run away. I leave the house and I don’t come back ‘till it’s night time.”

Dean tightened his grip on his shoulder, at a loss for what to say. He knew the situation was bad over there, but there was never anything he could do. He liked Castiel a lot, but the words were lost in his throat. What was he supposed to say to someone who couldn’t bring themselves to do the right thing?

Instead, he hugged him. He had only known Castiel for a couple of months, but already he felt like he had known him for years. He just stood there and hugged him, and neither one of them said a single word, only reveling in the silence that had fallen between the two of them. Gradually, Castiel began to relax, more and more, until he was actually smiling again, his eyes drooping from a peaceful sleepiness. He found himself wishing he could stay in Dean’s arms forever, and actually felt his cheeks turn red at the thought.

He pushed it hastily aside, and focused on the moment. He was happy, he was safe. He didn’t need to worry for once.

Hours later, they sat listening to the radio, talking about girls and everything else.

“Have you ever kissed a girl?” Dean asked him. Castiel’s eyes went wide, but he shook his head no, his cheeks turning a bright red which only made Dean laugh. Sitting next to him on Dean's old couch, they were practically leaning on one another, tuckered out from a long day at school. Dean smiled to himself as he turned down the radio a notch.

"It's nasty as all hell," he assured his friend, nudging him playfully in the ribs. "I don't know why everyone makes such a darn deal about it. I was just wondering if you thought the same."

Castiel suddenly looked nervous, fiddling with his fingers as he stared straight ahead, refusing to look at Dean as the radio continued to play. Dean nudged him again, furrowing his brow at Castiel’s sudden anxiety over the subject.

“You okay?” he asked. Castiel shook his head.

“Fine,” he murmured. “Fine…”

“You can tell me.”

Castiel turned his head, looking straight at Dean with a frightened expression. Their sudden proximity made Dean tense nervously, their faces only inches away. Castiel’s bright, blue eyes seemed to be pleading with him, as if there was something Dean had to understand that no words could possibly tell. Dean blinked and opened his mouth to reassure him that whatever it was, he could tell him, but Castiel stopped him before he could say anything.

“I’ve kissed a man before,” he blurted out. Dean drew back in surprise, his eyes growing wide with shock. Words caught in his throat, he let out a noise of surprise as Castiel turned away in shame.

Dean had never heard of such a thing before. It was a taboo topic everywhere he went. No one talked about that sort of thing, especially not if you were a boy like he and Cas were. He swallowed thickly as he scrambled to find the right words to say.

“Oh--! I...didn’t know that,” he said stupidly, cursing himself for tripping over his tongue. What was he supposed to say to that? That just didn’t...happen. It made Dean slightly uncomfortable, although it was more from simply never hearing of such a thing before.

“I do it for my job,” he said, looking down at his feet, his voice immediately dropping in volume as if he were afraid someone would hear. “It’s the only thing I could do for money. They kiss me, and sometimes they touch me too…” He stopped, and Dean could feel himself go rigid with alarm.

“But I get money for it, and I don’t have to ask Michael or my dad for money anymore...or even for food. I can just buy it myself. That isn’t so bad, is it? It-it’s not bad if it’s for money, right?”

The innocence in his eyes told Dean he believed nothing else but the simple truth. And when the boy probably needed it most, he had no words to give him for advice or comfort. He looked more frightened than anything else, not to mention practically being on the verge of tears. At thirteen years old, he had already learned more of the harsh realities of the world than any boy of his age ever should have, even if he didn’t realize it yet.

“I don’t like it. But I do it on week nights, only once a week...it’s usually older men...older guys that are weird and scary, but my boss doesn’t let ‘em hurt me at all. And I get paid a lot of money. One man...comes a lot...I forget his name but I think it’s either Gary or...Gordon. Something like that. He always tries to say nice things to me, but it only scares me a helluva lot more.”

Dean felt his whole body go rigid and numb. He looked at him, breath quickening in alarm. He simply didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t tell no one. Please! It’s the only job I can get right now. You promise you won’t tell, right?”

Dean promised, the words coming out forced and machine-like, as if they were from someone else’s mouth.

“Thank you.”

Dean nodded. Together, they sat on the couch, Castiel instinctively leaning against Dean for comfort as the Lone Ranger came to an end. It was then that the older Winchester, for the first time in his life, found himself wishing his life were like that of the Lone Ranger’s instead. Because there, you just killed all the bad guys for stealing money and killing other guys. Those bad guys didn’t exist in the home of his best friend, where instead of robbing a bank of money, they robbed a young boy of his innocence bit by bit until there was nothing left but an empty shell.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings for mentions of sexual abuse. No explicit content.  
> Thank you to all who have read, left comments, and left kudos. I appreciate every single one of them.

**October, 1955**

It was growing colder at night, now. Cold enough that Lucifer couldn’t just slip out in his t-shirt jeans on his weekly nights to Gordon’s house to play the piano. He made extra careful nowadays to keep his jacket in his room when he came home from school, and not in the closet downstairs where the brothers normally kept their coats. As promised, Gabriel kept quiet about Lucifer’s secret job, never even bringing up the subject unless Lucifer mentioned it first. The young boy’s fifth birthday was coming up soon, and Lucifer wanted to make sure he had enough money to buy him a present. He kept all the cash he earned tucked underneath his mattress, where he knew Michael and his father would never find it. It wasn’t much, but Lucifer always smiled in satisfaction whenever he counted his money, and found that his amount was significantly growing.

He found that, at this point, it was the only thing that was keeping him motivated to continue his “performances”.

He was going to Gordon’s three times a week now, and the days after were always exhausting to the young boy. Gordon often demanded him to stay longer when he was displeased with his playing, threatening to not pay him at all unless he kept him for as long as he needed. Sometimes, he would stay hours into the night, going on three or four in the morning, so tired he could barely read the musical notes on the page.

He would have rather played without sheet music. He was much better at learning by ear, than reading music on a piece of paper. But Gordon wouldn’t hear of it. Lucifer was miserable, and he hated working for the creepy man that only ever yelled at him, or touched him in ways that made him uncomfortable. Some part of Lucifer made him feel like there was something more to Gordon than just his short temper, or his demanding authority, but he was too confused and tired to care by the time the night was over.

Most nights, he barely had the energy to walk home, dragging himself through the hallway, almost completely deaf to his fellow classmates taunting and bullying.. As September dragged on into October, Lucifer wondered if he should tell Sam about what he did at night afterall. He didn’t trust any of his brothers enough to confide in them, especially not Castiel, whom Lucifer detested. Bitter resentment had manifested itself in Lucifer over his older brother in the past year. Castiel was such a coward, and Lucifer hated him for it. There was no way he wanted to tell him anything, and Gabriel was too young to understand. Michael and his father were out of the question. Sam was the only one he had.

But he didn’t like sharing his secrets with the younger Winchester, even though he trusted him more than he had ever trusted anybody. And at nine years old, Lucifer had more secrets than most boys that were twice his age.

“Hey Luce, wait up!”

Lucifer had almost forgotten to wait for Sam as he dragged himself out of the school building that Friday afternoon, feet feeling heavy and cold as he shrugged his tattered backpack up higher onto his shoulders. Giving Sam a weary smile, he stopped, waiting for the younger Winchester to catch up as the rest of the students began hurrying out of the buildings to catch the buses.

“Golly, Luce, do you even sleep at all anymore? You look like dead weight.”

Lucifer shrugged, preferring to keep quiet as usual. He rubbed his face, trying to shake himself awake.

“I didn’t sleep much last night.”

“You always say that.”

Lucifer frowned, wrinkling his nose as they began making their daily walk back to their houses. Sam and Lucifer had taken to walking a different way home, as to avoid Zachariah and his friends that like to terrorize the two boys, especially Lucifer. Little did Sam know that it Zachariah never failed to shove Lucifer into the lockers and spit in his face at least once per day, but he kept that to himself.

“I had to do my job last night,” he said quietly, immediately wishing he hadn’t opened his mouth. Sam looked at him in surprise.

“You have a job?”

Lucifer nodded.

“Yeah. It keeps me late though...so that’s why I’m super tired.”

He was hoping Sam wouldn’t ask any further questions, but Sam was never one to not ask questions, no matter what the subject was. Sometimes Lucifer liked it. It wasn’t often he had someone interested in what he had to say. But other times it was just exhausting.

“I play the piano. For a man named Gordon.”

Sam, not having heard Lucifer talk about his piano-playing since they met, was pleasantly surprised to hear that.

“That’s so nifty! You actually play for money? Wow!”

Lucifer gave him a small smile, trying to hide the grimace in his expression.

“Yeah. It’s...different. I don’t like Gordon very much though. He’s creepy. And really weird. He touched my stomach a lot and it’s just...gross. But I get two dollars every time I play, and sometimes three if I’m really good.”

“Three whole dollars?” Sam asked in amazement.

“Yeah. Sometimes. But…” He yawned, his eyelids drooping sleepily.

“I don’t like him. But I gotta have the money. Michael doesn’t always feed us and Papa only comes home to fight with Michael and shove us around. So I buy food for me and Gabe. Castiel gets money somehow. I dunno. I think he takes it from Michael.”

Sam listened to his friend intently. At nine years old, neither one of the boys were able to perceive the nature of Gordon’s true intentions. Never having met him, Sam didn’t understand just what Gordon was doing to his friend, and the fear he was instilling. Unbeknownst to him, Lucifer was learning to hate any kind of touch, or anybody who wasn’t like him. Gordon frightened him, even if he could never admit it, even to himself.

What Lucifer also did not understand, was that Gordon was doing the same to his brother, Castiel, although neither one of the boys knew it. Nor did Gordon know that the young boy who sat in the corner of the brothel every Friday night, offering himself for money to feed himself where his older brother fell short, was the brother of the young boy who played piano for him during the week.

“What? Michael doesn’t feed you?” Sam asked, astonished.

“Nope. I mean, sometimes he does. But not a whole lot. I don’t know how Cas gets all the money he’s getting, unless he’s got some job too.”

Lucifer looked at Sam, furrowing his brow in concentration.

“You’ve never talked to him about it? Doesn’t he take care of you?”

“I don’t let him take care of me.”

Sam nodded, unsure of what to say next. He had known Lucifer for several months now. They laughed about the same things, and liked to make fun of the way Mrs. Mills put her hands on her hips whenever she was cross with one of the students.

Still, Sam couldn’t imagine the kind of relationship Lucifer and his brothers shared. He and Dean always got along so well, and looked out for one another like best friends. For a while, Dean was Sam’s best friend.

He felt like he was learning something new about the strange boy every day. Some days, Lucifer would be utterly silent, barely uttering a word to Sam. Other days, he was making faces at the teacher behind her back, making Sam’s face turn red from silent laughter in the back of the room. The only thing that never seemed to change was the black music pendant that hung from Lucifer’s neck by a thin, leather strip.

While he never made a move to ask him about it, it still tugged at Sam’s curiosity every day. He wore it everywhere he went, wherever he went, whether it was at school or to the market with him and his little brother.

“Castiel is a stupid coward and I hate him. I can take care of myself. I don’t need him or Michael or my dad to take care of me and Gabe.”

What about your mom? Sam wanted to ask. The question he had wanted to ask since the day they met. But, he didn’t. Someday he would. But with all that had happened, Sam feared he wouldn’t like the answer.

 

* * *

 

The bartender, the bright-eyed, long-auburn-haired girl named Hannah, was surprised to see the young boy show up on that chilly Wednesday night. Keeping his head down as usual, he pushed through the creaky, rotted wooden door, hurrying inside and giving her a small smile as he usually did whenever she was working the nights he was. It wasn’t until recently that Hannah began realizing what the boy was really here for. He was so young, no younger than fourteen. And it deeply disturbed her when it dawned on her what he was doing for money.  Even if she had been merely denying it the first couple of weeks that he pushed through those rotted, wooden doors, she couldn’t bring herself to allow it to continue, despite the bar’s reputation. The bar that was known for its prostitutes, made up in gaudy makeup, short dresses, and breaths that reeked of alcohol.

So from there on out, she offered him part of her shift and pay behind the bar, serving drinks and the disgusting food they served, that Hannah could scarcely touch, let alone eat.  Even if it was illegal to allow someone underage to serve alcohol, she didn't care. It wasn't as if it was the only illegal service going on inside.

The only person who knew about Castiel’s other life was Dean Winchester, the only boy he trusted enough to tell anything. The only person he ever really trusted in his life. Unlike Lucifer, Castiel generally did try to become friends with the people around him. When he wasn’t being bullied and pushed into the school lockers, that was.  But it was hard. He was quiet, and shy, and stumbled often when he walked. He was the laughing stock of the entire school.

Much like Lucifer with Sam, he only really wanted to be with Dean.

The thing about the tiny town they lived in, was that it was essentially divided into two parts. There was the nicer section, with simple, well-built homes along the sidewalk, complete with yards and white fences, and enough money to go around. Children ran up and down the sidewalks, and people regularly walked their dogs (and, in Pamela’s case, her cat).

But only four blocks over was when the town started to change. To the west, it was clear where the economic lines were drawn, and the town began to crumble and lose it’s welcoming, peaceful atmosphere. The buildings were less kept, falling apart in some areas, and the few stores that the west side of the town had were riddled with broken windows and sagging roofs. The children that ran up and down the sidewalks were dressed in rags, and people only really stepped outside to beg for money.

The bar that Castiel went to, and where Dean had accidentally stumbled upon, was a place people paid for indecencies. While technically illegal, it ran under the pretense that it was a typical bar by day. It wasn’t until the dead of night that it became something more. Sitting on the edge of town, its only entrance was a creaky, half-rotted wooden door in between  two abandoned buildings that once served as small office buildings after the Depression.

When Castiel heard Michael laughing about how easy it was to make a quick buck down there, it peaked Castiel’s interest immediately. It was mostly women who offered their services in return for money. Lost in a haze of innocence, even at thirteen, Castiel had no idea of the "services" they offered, or what it meant. All he knew was that he needed money. It wasn't until he arrived for the first night that he understood. He had cried and begged the woman to stop-- a hideous woman with bright red hair and too much lipstick-- but she told him that if he wanted her money, he was to keep still.

"No, n-no-!" he pleaded. She only sneered.

"Do you want my money or not, sweetheart?"

That kep

After the first two weeks, Hannah took him under her wing of protection, out of pity and disgust, mostly at herself, that she had let this go on for so long. With a small face, bright eyes, and beautiful brown hair, she wasn't the type one would expect to work in a place as low as this. She would often get offers of money to be taken to the back room for an hour, which she always refused. Anyone who continued to push her would end up bleeding on the ground. To all who knew Hannah, anyone would say she was a strong girl with a heart of gold, capable of taking care of herself. Few people even knew it existed, mostly serving prostitutes, night prowlers, and drunks and people desperate enough to make a quick buck in any way they could. It served alcohol, and not much else. The food was too disgusting to be consumed by even the hungriest of people.

Filthy and dirty, with creaky floorboards and a sagging ceiling, music was played over a creaky record player, usually too loud for any sort of normal conversation. Women in dresses that were too short, with too much makeup and burnt-out eyes, and men with unkempt beards and shaking hands danced around tables, laughing and drinking until they could barely stand, and prostitutes called out for handsome men to take them into the back rooms. Lights hanging from the ceilings provided dim lighting, only just enough to see where you were going without bumping into anything. It used to scare Castiel, until he met Hannah, a girl who was too sweet, and too kind for a place like this. They had that much in common, the both of them thrust into a world where they didn’t belong.

What broke her heart, was how utterly young he was. She had seen boys like him come into a place like this, often homeless, or from broken families much like him. And even then, even with the boys who were much older than she, it broke her heart. But Castiel still a child, a child who would only be turning fourteen at the end of November. He barely even remembered when his own birthday was.

“You should meet my friend Dean,” the young boy bubbled excitedly one night, the fear in his eyes that she was so used to seeing completely gone. She quickly ushered him behind the bar, giving him a towel to begin wiping off the tables. It was a quieter crowd tonight, much less loud and violent than usual. But there was one customer she wanted to keep Castiel as far away from as possible, an older man named Gordon whom she didn’t trust in the slightest.

“Oh yeah?” she asked, glancing uneasily behind her shoulder. She turned her attention back to the boy, giving him a small smile.

“He’s the best. He's really nifty and likes all kinds of music and bands. He always lets me come over to his house too. And I've only known him for a couple months!"

Normally so quiet, Hannah was pleasantly surprised to see how full of life Castiel was tonight. She worried about him constantly. He rarely spoke, even though was always so kind and polite whenever he did. But his entire face was lit up tonight as he spoke about Dean Winchester, the boy with the freckles and the short, blonde hair. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought Castiel was in love.

She felt a sense of relief, knowing the young, vulnerable boy had at least one friend he could count on. She only hoped he didn’t hurt him, as everyone else in his life seemed determined to do.

“Castiel, why don’t you go in the back and fill up the fries? And then head on home, okay?”

He smiled at her and nodded, hurrying through the door into the small kitchen, leaving Hannah alone at the bar. At least a minute later, Gordon, who had been sitting in the back corner of the establishment, walked up to the bar, giving Hannah a solemn look.

“I’d like that boy,” he said. Hannah looked up, a scowl forming on her face.

“Stay away from him,” she hissed.

He stared at her, letting out a harsh laugh.

“So you don’t want my money then? I’m a man of fine tastes, doll. I don’t like taking no for an answer.”

Despite the fear rising in her chest, she lashed out a hand, slapping him straight across the face, hard enough to leave a mark on his dark skin.

“Leave, or I’ll call the police immediately. I don’t care if this whole damn place will be shut down. You aren’t touching that boy, you understand me?”

Gordon didn’t say a single word. He gave Hannah a dark, menacing scowl. For a long moment, they locked gazes, paralyzing fear keeping Hannah from uttering another word. After what seemed like a long moment, he turned and left.

Hannah buried her face in her hands, willing herself not to cry.

“Hannah?” Castiel’s voice called out from the back kitchen. “We’re out of fries…”

She took a deep breath, willing herself to stay calm, for his sake. It was then that Hannah made  a vow to herself, that no matter what was to happen, she would protect the young boy from any sort of harm that would come his way.

“I’m coming, Castiel,” she replied softly.

 

* * *

 

 “It’s been a while since you’ve paid me a visit, Lucifer,” Pamela said, a soft smile on her face. Lucifer nodded, fiddling with the music pendant hanging from his neck. She eyed it fondly, setting a glass of lemonade down in front of him.

“That’s a fine necklace, Lucifer,” she said. “Your Mama was quite the handywoman when it came to making little trinkets like that. Carved that all by hand, huh?”

Lucifer smiled a little, nodding again as he took a small sip from his glass.

“Thank you,” he said politely. “ ‘Mmh sorry I haven’t been down much. Gabriel keeps me busy and all. And Sam likes to go to the park with us, so we usually stay longer…”

“That’s fine, sweetheart,” she replied. “I’m glad you’ve made a friend. That all that matters to me. To be perfectly square with you, I think you’re given an awful lot of responsibility with that little brother of yours.”

“I don’t mind.”

She gave him a sad smile.

“Of course you don’t, honey. That’s what makes you so good.”

Downing his glass, Lucifer set his glass hurriedly down on the table and stood up in his chair.

“I gotta go, ma’am. Thank you for the lemonade.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart. Stop in real soon, okay?”

He nodded, and hurried out the door, the hand-carved music pendant note banging against his chest as he ran down the sidewalk.

 

* * *

 

He was hit, and shoved against the wall. Someone was screaming at him for coming home too late, and that he was nothing but a good-for-nothing little bastard child. The yelling wasn’t usually this loud. But Lucifer could smell the alcohol on his father’s breath, making him cough and gag. Michael was yelling, trying to pull their father off of him. Lucifer didn’t cry. As soon as he was able to move again, he made a bolt for the stairs, darting straight to his room and locking the door behind him. Breathing heavily as if he had just run a marathon, Lucifer sat against his door, blinking hard. He almost didn’t notice Gabriel sitting in his bed, huddled under the blankets.

“Hey, Gabe,” Lucier said. Gabriel waved at him. He had been crying.

“C’mere.”

Gabriel scampered off the bed, dragging the blankets with him, before crawling into his brother’s lap. Lucifer wrapped his arms around him protectively, trying to drown out the sounds of his father and brother screaming at each other from downstairs by telling Gabriel about his day at school.

“Luci?” the young boy whimpered.

“Yeah?”

“Will you play the piano for me?”

Lucifer sighed, but nodded nonetheless, lifting the small boy off his lap to get himself situated at his piano bench. The instrument itself took up nearly half his room, but Lucifer never wanted anywhere else in the house but in his own, private space. He had a couple books of sheet music, but he almost never used them, preferring to either play by ear, or play his own compositions.

“Play Rock Around the Clock!” Gabriel said excitedly, scurrying over to sit beside Lucifer on the bench. The little boy’s older brother laughed.

“Alright. You gonna sing along this time?”

Gabriel nodded, bouncing on the bench excitedly.

It was a fast-paced, quick song that always put Gabriel in a good mood. Lucifer played it from memory, never missing a single note as Gabriel tried to keep up with the words, a happy, ecstatic grin on his face. He couldn’t pronounce most of the words, and soon, Lucifer was singing along with him, helping him out as he continued to play, over and over until they were out of breath, laughing and tumbling off the piano bench until they couldn’t breathe.

Gabriel slept in his brother’s room last night, on his brother’s bed while Lucifer slept on the floor. And for the first night in a long, long time, the little boy fell asleep without nightmares.


	7. Chapter 7

**December, 1955**

 

Just as the months were changing, the temperature was, too. The wind grew chillier, and while snow had yet to make its first appearance, the frost that covered the ground each morning was more than enough of a reminder that winter was here, and here to stay.

It had been five months since the Winchesters had moved in next door, and in those five months, things had changed drastically with the way the two middle-Novak brothers lived their lives. Castiel spent time with Dean frequently, just as Lucifer did with Sam.

But Castiel found himself thinking he should spend less time with his friend. Not because of the way Dean treated him; the older Winchester was the most amazing person Castiel had ever met. Dean listened to him when he talked. He made Castiel laugh. He let him talk about his father, and Michael, and his brothers. While Castiel never mentioned her to anyone, he talked about his mother, and how she had died many years ago, giving birth to Gabriel. She had loved music of every kind, and enrolled Lucifer, the only one of the brothers who had ever expressed a strong interest in the art, into piano lessons when he was young.

They had stopped when she passed away, and Lucifer now taught himself.

Castiel liked Dean. Really liked Dean. And much to his horror, he was beginning to wonder why he always watched Dean so carefully when he was talking, or stretching out his back muscles from sitting for too long, or the way his eyes lit up when he laughed.

Most boys Castiel’s age had their eyes on girls like Meg, who always wore dark clothing and liked to flirt with the boys in her grade and older, or girls like Bella who had the biggest chest and prettiest hair.

Castiel never noticed any of this. But for now, he pushed it out of his mind for good.

He was happy. And that’s all that mattered to him. And when he opened the door to let Dean inside his for-once blissfully-empty household, he smiled as warmly as he would greeting a friend he had known for many years.

* * *

 

Hannah’s eyes were narrowed as she scanned the small bar for any sign of the man from the night before. Cleaning off several drink glasses, she told Castiel she needed some help in the back, refilling oil, cleaning the stoves, and wiping down the cabinets. Truthfully, she could’ve used the help out front. The bar was busy that night, filling up with the usual dregs and low-lifes of the small town, already laughing and bartering for services that made Hannah want to gag. Working here for three months hadn’t made her anymore numb to the indecencies that occurred right in front of her eyes. Taking the place as head manager after the old one quit, it was the most she could do to turn a blind eye to all that went on in the back rooms. Her duties were making money, and keeping the young boy with the dark hair and impossible blue eyes safe from the harmful eyes of the regular bar-goers.

Pushing her hair behind her ears, she scanned the bar one more time, relieved to find that there was no sign of Gordon that night. Part of her wanted to inform the police. But if that happened, she knew the long-lasting consequences. She would be out of work. Castiel would be out of work. And something told her that the bruise that stretched across the young boy’s jaw wasn’t just a clumsy accident. Neither was the faint, black eye he had two weeks before, or the tremble in his hands from last night. This boy, in every sense, needed this money.

She knew because she knew what it was like to be in that situation. She knew that look in his eye, only because she frequently had it herself when she was his age. At age eighteen, Hannah had already had her fair share of suffering. And as quiet and shy as he was, the boy was stronger than he appeared. She knew that.

Even so, she kept him in the back kitchen that night, in fear that Gordon could return in search of him, or anyone else sick enough to mistake him for a child prostitute. The other workers, a man named Bartolomeu, another younger, quieter woman named Anna, kept to themselves, doing their work without much conversation. Hannah was the only one who really cared what happened to the young boy, who by all right, was too young to be in an establishment serving alcohol. She didn’t care. Letting people have their way with him was far worse.

“Ay, look at this dame over here!”

Hannah looked up from the drink she had been mixing, finding herself staring straight at a shorter man who looked like he only had about three and a half teeth. With long, stringy brown hair and a malicious grin, Hannah felt her stomach lurch as she tried to ignore him.

“Hey! I’m talkin’ to you,” he sneered, grabbing at the sleeve of her sweater. His breath reeked of alcohol, making Hannah want to gag.

“Leave me alone,” she said warningly, setting the drink down to step away from him with an even glare.

“Aww, she’s playin’ hard to get! How cute! Look at this one over here Danny, I gotta good one--”

“I said let me go!”’

Hannah wrenched her arm out of his grip, much to the anger of the young man. He slammed his hand down on the bar, anger flashing across his expression as another hand grabbed her hair. She cried out, baring her teeth.

“Now listen ‘ere you dumb bitch, I don’t take friggen no for an answer, and you ain’t in any place to--”

He never finished his sentence. Less than a second later, her fist collided with his jaw, causing a strangled groan of pain to leave his throat. He stumbled back, falling to the ground hard. Hannah heard his head smack against the hard ground in satisfaction.

The bar went momentarily quiet, all eyes either on Hannah or the fallen drunk on the ground, before erupting into hollers of laughter and drunken excitement.

“Got ‘em good, lil’ girl!” Hannah heard one guy shout. Anna and Bartholomeu stared at her in shock. She barely heard anything else. Slamming the drink down on the counter, she hurried into the back kitchen, feeling like she was about to throw up. Bending over the sink, she gripped the edges tightly, trying to control her ragged breathing.

“Hannah?” Castiel asked quietly, approaching her from behind. His brow was furrowed in worry, the cleaning gloves on his hand covered in grease and food as he hastily wiped them on his apron.

“Are you okay?”

She lifted her head, forcing a smile that she could only hope appeared to be genuine.

“I’m fine!” she said brightly. “Felt a little sick, is all. Been a little under the weather all night, but I’m okay. It passes quickly.”

Castiel noded, worry still stretching across his expression.

“Really, honey, I’m fine. How about you be a dear to me and finish up those dishes? You can go home after that.”

Not fully convinced, Castiel nodded again.

"Hannah are you sure you're alright? Were those jerks giving you a hard time?"

She looked at him with a strained smile.

"They always do. But really. I'm fine. I promise. Don't worry about me. I'm tough, remember?"

Castiel laughed, filling Hannah with a sense of relief and calm. He had one of the most gorgeous smiles she had ever seen. She was four years older than him, but he was the kind of boy Hannah had always dreamed of marrying one day. Kind, quiet, a warm heart. Not to mention the most beautiful blue eyes she had ever seen on any boy.

Hurrying back to the sink to finish with the night's worth of dishes, Castiel kept to his task the best that he could, as Hannah returned to her position out front. The man, who was keeping his distance, kept shooting her dirty looks from across the bar.

She smiled in satisfaction, and for the rest of the night, that smile never truly left her face.

When Castiel was going to leave that night, he stopped on his way out the door, turning to Hannah who was beginning to clean up the counters.

"You sure you're okay, Hannah?" he asked. She laughed.

"Goodness, would you quit worrying about me? I'm fine. You're way too sweet on me, Castiel."

He smiled warmly. "Well, that's real swell," he said, satisfied with her answer.

"How's Dean been doing?" she asked. At the mention of his friend, his whole face seemed to light up, a broad, genuine smile stretching across his face.

“He’s been real good! I’m going over to his house tomorrow. He wanted me to listen to The Lone Ranger with him since he loves it so much, and then we were gonna go out to lunch at the diner downtown."

Hannah smiled, a hint of sadness in her eyes. Whether he knew it or not, she was certain of it now that Castiel was in love with Dean Winchester. The way his eyes lit up like a child at Christmas when he spoke of him was almost comical; he was so utterly unaware of himself, that Hannah had to wonder if he was the kind of boy who would ever like girls at all.

“Well I’m surely glad to hear that, Castiel,” she said. “Go home and get some sleep. You’re gonna need it.”

“Thanks Hannah!” he called out. And just like that, he was gone, practically running out the door. Whoever this Dean Winchester was, Hannah thought, he was lucky to have a boy like Castiel Novak.

* * *

 

Hurrying home that night, Castiel slung his bag over his shoulder, keeping his head ducked low as he hurried down the cracked and neglected sidewalk. He’d be lying to himself if walking home so late at night didn’t frighten him, especially in a part of the neighborhood that wasn’t so friendly or put-together. Every shadow cast by the streetlights under the moon was someone ready to grab him and take him away. Every rustle of bushes or wind through the trees was someone from the bar ready to grab him and laugh in his ear as they had their way with him. He wasn’t afraid of monsters in the dark. He had outgrown that fear at a young age, realizing all too soon that the real monsters were the people you passed by on the streets every single day.

Just ahead of him, a figure was walking down the sidewalk just far away enough that Castiel couldn’t make out any features in the dark. He kept his distance, trying to keep his footsteps quiet so that the other figure wouldn’t turn around and see him. Fear crept into his gut. The logical thing for him to do would have been to pause and wait until the figure walked completely out of sight, or turned another direction. But it was growing late, and Castiel feared what would happen should someone see him standing by the sidewalk, alone.

So he kept walking, legs trembling and shaking as he took one uneasy step after another down the sidewalk, never taking his eyes off the walking figure. From what he could make out, whoever it was, although most likely a man, wasn’t very large or tall. Still, it did nothing to ease Castiel’s nerves. It seemed that every turn of the corner, the figure was still several dozen yards ahead of him, and every change of street, he still insisted on going the same way. After what seemed like forever, Castiel’s house came into sight, and he breathed a sigh of relief, until he realized that the figure was crossing the lawn, headed straight for his house. Castiel froze. It was nearly one in the morning. Was it someone who knew where he lived? Was someone going after his brothers?

Breaking out of the paralysis of fear, Castiel bolted across the yard as the figure slipped in through the window, right across from Lucifer’s room. He threw open the door, not caring who would hear, and hurried for his younger brother’s room. Before he knew it, he was crashing right into another human body, a hand shooting out to catch his wrist before he could fall. It was Lucifer, his eyes wide with panic, with his boots and coat on as if he were about to go somewhere. His hand felt freezing cold, and it took Castiel a moment to gather his bearings before he could form a coherent thought.

“Luce, _Luce there’s someone in the house_ \--” he gasped, trying to pull his brother away from his room. “I-I saw him climb through your window, I was outside, and--”

“Shut up!” Lucifer hissed between his teeth, looking around wildly in fear it would wake up Michael or his Father. “There’s no one in the house!”

“Yes there is!” Castiel insisted, his voice trembling in fear. “I saw him!”

“That was me!” Lucifer whispered frantically, a pit of fear forming in his throat as he realized where this conversation was headed. “There’s no one in the house! Be quiet before you wake up Dad or Michael, would you!?”

Castiel calmed down, his shoulders relaxing as he dropped his bag onto the floor beside him. He looked at Lucifer in confusion.

“Why were you outside?!” he demanded.

“Why were you outside?”

The two brothers glared at one another.

“Lucifer, I mean it! Where on earth were you?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything!” the younger brother snapped angrily, his face growing red. “You don’t tell me what to do. You’re just a stupid coward who never does anything for our family!”

Castiel opened his mouth in a retort, but Lucifer was already hurrying up the stairs, trying to be quick and quiet at the same time. No matter how angry he was with his brother, his ultimate fear was his father finding out that he snuck out of the house. The only thing that eased his worry about Lucifer, telling on him, was that Castiel could easily say Lucifer had been sneaking out too.

Moments later, Castiel gently pushed open the door to Lucifer’s tiny bedroom, his face wrought with anxiety. His brother’s room was the oddest thing; taking up the majority of the space was his piano, something their mother had insisted on putting into Lucifer’s room ever since he expressed an interest in music, which he had ever since he learned how to walk. Strewn across the plain, brown carpet were pieces of paper, writings of sheet music and other strange markings that Castiel could not recognize, most likely Lucifer’s own way of writing music, where his knowledge of traditional music writing fell short. Next to the piano sat a small record-player and a box of old albums, also once belonging to their mother. His bed sat in the corner, next to the foot of the piano.

Sure enough, Castiel’s brother was sitting at the piano bench when he peeked his head in through the door, wanting to both apologize and talk to his brother about what had happened. While Lucifer wasn’t playing the piano, sitting on the bench was a source of comfort for him.

“Is this your music?” Castiel asked quietly, picking up a sheet of paper with the strange markings and arrows on it. Lucifer shrugged.

“Guess so.”

He walked into his room cautiously, shrugging off his coat and setting it on the floor, grateful that Lucifer wasn’t physically shoving him out the door as he had many times before.

“Luce, I’ll tell you what I was doing outside if you’ll tell me,” he said quietly. Lucifer turned around, not meeting his brother’s eyes. He briefly considered lying, but then again, he had never been a good liar. Castiel especially was always able to tell when Lucifer wasn’t telling the truth.

“I...have a job,” he murmured. Castiel seemed shocked.

“A job?”

“I play the piano. For a man named Gordon. He pays me.”

Castiel frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Lucifer got up and lifted his mattress, showing him the stash of money he had hiding there. Castiel’s jaw fell open.

“Holy hell, Luce…you never told me.”

He shrugged again.

For a moment, Castiel was more impressed with how much money his little brother had made than the fact that he was sneaking out in the middle of the night.

“Well...I do the same thing. Except I don’t play piano. I work at a bar downtown with a girl named Hannah. I get paid too. I...felt bad. Because I never thought Michael took care of you and Gabriel enough. I wanted to make some money for myself to help you guys and all.” He laughed a little, and rubbed the back of his head.

“I didn’t know you were doing this.”

Lucifer looked up at him wordlessly, quiet as usual. Castiel sighed. He didn’t know what to do. Here they were, the both of them sneaking out in the dead of night just to get by. He had left out what he used to do for money, before Hannah took him under her wing, just as Lucifer kept word of Gordon’s terrifying behavior to himself.

“Don’t tell Papa or Michael, okay?” Lucifer asked quietly. “Please?”

Castiel sighed.

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Thanks.”

“Just...be careful,” Castiel murmured. “That part of town isn’t...good, okay? There’s some really awful people on that side of town and they’ll hurt you if they get ahold of you.”

“I’ll be careful.”

Castiel smiled. Before Lucifer could say anything else, he walked up to him and hugged him tightly. Lucifer’s body went rigid from the contact, but after a moment, he allowed himself to relax, even hugging his brother back, despite the discomfort he felt.

"I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Luce," Castiel said with a smile.

“Yeah...you too.”

Without another word, Castiel left, leaving Lucifer feeling at peace with himself. Ten minutes later, just as Lucifer was about to fall asleep, Gabriel poked his head into Lucifer’s room.

“Lucy?” he said quietly. Gabriel’s voice, always reminding Lucifer of tinkling bells before the break of a storm, woke up him up almost immediately.

“Gabe...what are you doing up?” he groaned, rolling over on his mattress.

“Why were you and Cas yelling so much?” he asked.

“It was nothing, Gabe. It’s fine. No one’s mad. I promise.”

“You sure?”

"Yeah, Gabe. I'm sure. Go back to sleep."

Gabriel nodded, giving his brother one, final glance, before shuffling back to his bedroom. Rolling over, Lucifer sighed and fell back asleep quickly.

 

____

 

"C'mon, Lucifer."

"No."

"Just try it!"

"No way!"

"Please?"

"Shut it."

Sam smirked. Lucifer glared at his friend, his face turning bright pink with embarrassment as he sat on his bed the next day, gritting his teeth together.

“Dean taught me how to dance,” Sam insisted. “You should know too. Especially since you like to play music on the piano! C’mon, please try?”

Lucifer groaned, shaking his head defiantly.

Next to Lucifer’s closet sat a simple, overflowing brown box, filled with records and albums, some older, and some much newer. It was hard to sift through them-- the box was filled to the top, the covers dusty and old-looking, like they had been there for a long time.

Sam pulled off one of the ones sitting on the top.

“Glenn Miller?” he asked curiously, holding it up for Lucifer to see.

“It was my mom’s,” Lucifer mumbled. “I have all her old albums in that box. Most of Michael’s are in there too. He never listens to them, so I just keep them in here and learn to play them on the piano.

“Without, like...sheet music?”

Lucifer nodded.

“That’s super neat, Luce.”

Without another word, Sam took the dusty album out of it’s cover, placing it in Lucifer’s record-player. Almost immediately, Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood” began to play, and a pleased grin spread across Sam’s face.

He grabbed Lucifer by the wrist and pulled him off his bed, spinning him around. Lucifer let out a surprised yelp, looking increasingly distressed as Sam spun him around like a seasoned dancer. Dean had certainly taught him well, and soon, Lucifer was begrudgingly following in-step, and Sam was laughing until he was red in the face.

“See? Ain’t so bad, huh?” Lucifer grimaced as they spun around near the doorway, but even after a moment, he was smiling, gripping onto Sam’s hand tightly.

“Dean taught me really, really- _whoa!_ ”

Sam’s feet tangled through Lucifer’s blankets on the ground, and he tumbled over, nearly dragging Lucifer down with him. Surprised, Lucifer burst out laughing, the kind that had him doubled over, with tears gathering in his eyes. Sam thought that was the first time he ever heard his friend laugh like that.

Castiel, who has been sitting downstairs doing his homework before winter break, came up to see what the commotion was about. Lucifer grinned as Sam groaned and laughed on the floor, and soon, Castiel was laughing, too. The two brothers exchanged glances, smiling at one another as if sharing a secret only the two of them knew.

 

 


End file.
